Into the Dark
by WildVegeta
Summary: The Dursleys didn't want him. The abuse was expected, really. What nobody expected was that he would be saved by no other than the Dark Lord. A saved Savior, dragged into the darkness. The Wizarding World will learn what it is to be left behind. AU
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **Well, hi! Uhm... So, yeah. This is my first Harry Potter fanfic, but this idea has been going on in my head for quite some time. So I decided to write it. I know it's a bit cliché, but I swear it is not going to be like the others. There won't be any male slash, but there will be abuse and stuff. So I hope you enjoy it as much as I'll enjoy writing it.

**Warnings:** Child Abuse. Swearing.

**Disclaimer: **People. If I owned Harry Potter Lily and Snape would have made it as a couple no matter what everyone says! Oh, and Dumbledore would've lived :')

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><p>Curiosity killed the cat. And Petunia Dursley found this statement all too real when she opened the door of her house one morning to check on the neighbors and found a small, blue, wailing bundle at her feet. She stared at it with horror and looked in every direction. Who would've left a baby in her door? Had anyone seen him? She sighed. She always tried so hard to be normal, why did things like this happen to her? She hastily scooped up the tiny boy and huffed as she smelt him. How long had he been lying there? She hoped to God that nobody had seen him and grabbed the letter that had been placed near the boy.<p>

She nearly fainted as she finished reading it and looked down at the tiny boy.

"Harry Potter?" she whispered. "Oh, God. Vernon! VERNON!"

.

Nine years had passed since that morning.

A tiny ten-year-old boy lay against a wall inside a dusty cupboard, huddled within himself, with his arms wrapped tightly around his legs and his face hidden in them. He was trembling, trying to breathe through the pain. He briefly looked up when he felt dust falling on him, a sign that someone was walking down the stairs. He quickly cleaned his tears and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. He hoped against hope that it was just Dudley going down instead of Uncle Vernon. He had been quite some time inside the cupboard, but he wasn't ready to come out. He was still hurting all over and very sore, and he was sure that he wouldn't have a chance of completing all of the chores Uncle Vernon liked to give him during vacations. He swallowed and closed his eyes shut, wishing with all his might that it wasn't his uncle.

But he didn't have such luck.

The door of the cupboard was thrown open and he pressed his back against the wall as much as he could.

"Get out." The pig-man said, frowning. "Now. Don't make me wait."

Harry nodded and, even if all his body screamed to stay put, he got to his feet and walked to the door. Uncle Vernon pushed him towards the kitchen.

"Breakfast. Now." He grumbled. "Count yourself in."

Harry's heart fluttered. That meant he got to eat! His stomach settled down as he sprinted to the kitchen. Of course, his breakfast was million times smaller than his relatives', but he wasn't going to argue. He only got this chance once every few days if he was lucky, and it had been this way since he could remember. When he was little, he often passed out during recess, when he was being chased down by Dudley's friends. But he had grown used to it. Kindof.

* * *

><p>The enormous Malfoy mansion stood tall amongst the rain. Inside, two people sat on a table. It was extremely dark, since, although it was early in the morning, the weather on this particular part of the city kept the sky dark. It didn't help either that the windows were closed with thick curtains draped over them. The man sitting on the head of the table caressed the snake's head with one finger.<p>

"It was good that Lucius could borrow us his _humble_ house." Voldemort said.

"Indeed."

"My, my. Cheery today, are we, Severus."

The tall man sighed and looked away. "It has been a rough week for me, Lord."

"I can imagine. But I trust that, if you oh-so-urgently summoned me here, you have information for me. You know Nagini doesn't enjoy long trips, and she is angry as she is already. Wouldn't want to send us home without a gift, would you Severus?" the Dark Lord said. Severus's eye twitched at the hidden threat, but he didn't even blink when the snake hissed to press her owner's point. The Head of Slytherin would be damned if he were afraid of snakes. Hell, he'd be damned if he were afraid of anything. He took a sip of his coffee and sighed, looking for the right words. It would have to wait, though, as Dobby walked slowly and shakily up to their table, looking at the floor. Oh, how both men despised elves. Both frowns deepened and the atmosphere heightened.

"Uh-uhm. Dobby sorry for interrupt Master Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named, but Master Malfoy sent Dobby to ask what Master Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named likes for eat." The elf said slowly, trying not to stutter.

"We don't want food. And tell Lucius that one more interruption will end badly for him and his precious son." Dobby nodded and disappeared. "Huh. Stupid elves. Can't stand them. Anyway, where were we?"

Severus looked into Voldemort's eyes. "I trust you are aware that Harry Potter is alive and – "

"And living with his relatives, yes. Do come to a concrete point, Severus. My patience is wearing thin."

"He will be entering Howarts soon, Master."

"I know – "

"And you know that Dumbledore will favor him and protect him. Besides, I am positive that he'll enter Gryffindor." He took a deep breath when Voldemort raised an eyebrow – if it could be called that – in interest. At least he wasn't halfway down Nagini's slender throat now. "Thus, it may interest you… something I have found recently."

"Do tell me."

"Dumbledore has been a bad player. It is of public knowledge that he saves things up until he finds a use for them, but any time before that, he just throws them away and never sees to them. The Potter brat is no different. Dumbledore placed the baby nine years ago on the Dursley's entrance and has never even thought of seeing if he is alright or not. He is completely sure that the blood wards will keep you away from him at all costs." Severus said. Before Voldemort could say anything, he continued. "I don't judge him for that. The blood wards are working perfectly. But… the blood wards are only for you."

"You will have to make yourself clear, Severus."

"If the blood wards can keep you away from Potter, then we must keep Potter away from the blood wards." He said. "We must take him away from that house before Dumbledore writes the letter and checks if Potter is still there. Or if he is alive, for that matter. But what if when he checks, Potter is not there. What if the letter arrives to a disappeared recipient."

"You mean we should take Harry Potter before he gets sent to Howarts?"

"That is exactly what I mean."

"Good." Voldemort said, patting Nagini's head. "Very good." He smiled. "But then, Severus, I see it fit that you get him."

Snape was completely overthrown by the comment. "E-excuse me, Lord?"

"You should get the Potter kid."

"W-with all due respect, sir… Why me?"

"It's actually very simple, Severus. Let's say that the wards are not _only_ meant for me, but for any magical being that gets into the house before the letter is due to arrive. And why wouldn't Dumbledore forgive Severus Snape? He was only getting in the house to check on the son of his beloved, lost love. He didn't mean any harm." he ended cruelly. Severus felt his rage boil. Voldemort chuckled. "Besides, I am sure you will get him straight to me. Won't you?"

Severus's knuckles were white. It was a fact that Voldemort could read any of his minion's minds any time. Not because he _could_, really, but because he _demanded _it. And so, the Dark Tyrant knew almost – _almost – _everything about Severus, except what the Potions professor had so earnestly and dutifully hidden in his mind with years of practice. He'd be dead if he hadn't. Unfortunately, his dark secrets didn't include his love for Lily… and Voldemort knew it. And he knew he had been the one to murder her. And he enjoyed it. He liked when his Death Eaters suffered. That meant there wasn't anything better for them out there, and that made them even more loyal. But that wasn't the only thing angering Severus as of now. The last sentence had confirmed his suspicions: Voldemort only wanted to test him. It was a silent challenge: 'What is bigger, your love for Lily, or your loyalty for Voldemort?'

He would have to choose the latter if he wanted to preserve the first.

"Fine." He said. "I'll do it."

"Tonight."

"Tonight."

"And you'll bring him here."

"Right."

"Until then."

Severus bowed his head and stared as his Master disappeared from sight. A heavy sigh took over him and he apparated right outside the castle.

* * *

><p>"Harry." Vernon called. Harry climbed down from his stool by the kitchen counter and sprinted towards the living room.<p>

"Yes, Uncle Vernon?"

"You lazy kid. Why don't I see my midmorning snack, eh?"

"Sorry, Uncle Vernon. Coming."

He rushed back to the kitchen and, instead of continuing washing the plates he began to prepare a sandwich, hoping to God his Uncle wasn't _that_ hungry. When he took it back to the living room, Vernon eyed him carefully.

"So, brat, I suppose you heard we're going to be out tonight. Since Figg is not around this week, I'll suppose we'll have to leave you alone. You won't cause any trouble, will you?"

Harry sighed and his shoulders sagged. He liked going to Mrs. Figg's house. She always gave him food and hot chocolate, and tucked him in in a warm bed. She told him stories of her childhood, and taught him bits of foreign languages. He supposed he'd have to go with sleeping inside the cupboard. At least his nightly beatings would give him a one-night rest. He nodded.

* * *

><p>Severus cursed everyone and everything as he apparated in front of Number 4 Privet Drive. The cheery equality of the houses disturbed him and he glared at it. He didn't know how he'd react. He was going to see the oh-so-pampered Potter again. Surely the boy was chubby from eating sweets and would scream as he took him away. He rolled his eyes. He hates spoiled children, and he hated Potter just because, well… He held the Family Name of his worst enemy. He easily opened the front door of the house and silently strode in. The house was dark and silent. Wand in hand, he began to walk upstairs. He looked into every room and found, with a pang of distaste, that all the rooms were empty. His anger grew as he stared at the room full of broken toys and a double-sized bed. Surely <em>that<em> was Potter's room. With a flick of his long, black cape, Snape walked downstairs, and just as he was preparing to leave, he heard a faint sound.

Something resembling a whimper.

He froze. He could hear, in the distance, someone crying. A small kid. He frowned and slowly followed the sounds. Another whimper. A low moan. The sounds, surprisingly, took him to a cupboard. He pressed his ear to the white door. There it was. Crying. But what was a child doing alone in a house, crying in a cupboard. He flicked his wand and murmured 'Alohomora'. The door creaked open and he heard a gasp. He squinted as he looked inside and distinguished a small form huddled into a corner. The smell of blood hit his nostrils and he found the light bulb. He pulled on the fragile cord and the yellow, dim light illuminated a dirty face. Snape could barely believe what he was seeing. He gave one step closer to the boy.

The little child's face was covered in tears. He had one swollen eye and one large bruise going to his temple and down to his cheekbone, not to mention the one covering his jaw. His big, wet, green eyes – the eyes of Lily, _crying – _stared up at him from behind rounded glasses. The child was trembling so bad he might as well be having a seizure. He lifted two thin – painfully thin – welted, bruised, oddly angled arms to protect his face as he whimpered.

Something odd took over Severus. His dream was coming true. The image of Potter, (and the child was the spitting image of James Potter alright), huddled into a corner, cowering before Severus, hurt and bruised and crying. But it was not right. The pain could be seen from Lily's eyes. He slowly knelt down and looked at the boy. He noticed with distaste that his ribs protruded from his skin. His torso was awful as well. Bruised, bloodied, welted and even burnt. He looked up into those eyes and sighed. Fine, he had been wrong. Potter was not spoiled. Rage boiled within him and he rubbed his eyes. He suddenly felt very tired.

"Potter."

The child flinched. He huddled more within himself and his brows furrowed. "I-I'm s-sorry."

"Sorry? For what?"

A cracked sob escaped the child's lips. It was always worse when he had to say his own misdeeds. Uncle Vernon always made sure that he 'forgot' one. "I-I… I…" But… he hand't done anything to this man! What was he supposed to say. "S-sorry."

"Stop apologizing, Potter. We're leaving."

The child lowered his trembling arms and looked up at Snape. "W-what?"

"You heard me. Come on."

"W-who are you? Where are we going?"

Snape rolled his eyes. "I am Severus Snape. I'm taking you away from this house."

"But Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia and Dudley will be back tomorrow morning and…"

"And they'll be back to find that you're gone. Come on!"

He grabbed the boy's wrist, but let go when he uttered a choked cry. He pulled his arm close to his chest and screwed his eyes shut. "Ngg…"

"Is your wrist fractured?"

"I-I don't know."

Snape sighed again. The child was too hurt to travel by apparating. He briefly wondered if his master's Floo could be used in muggle chimneys. He had said they worked in _any _chimney. He took one last glance at the boy and gently grabbed his other wrist, hoping to Merlin it wasn't injured.

And it wasn't, so he pulled the boy gently to his feet and took him to the chimney in the living room. He noticed the boy was limping badly and he sighed. Volemort would have many things to say.

Harry looked up at the man. Could it be? Was his dream finally coming true? Every single night he went to bed hoping against hope that someone, _anyone, _would take him away from his miserable life. He had always imagined a knight in shining armor, or a winged being. Or even Batman or Superman. He had never imagined a tall, black-robed man who looked more like a villain than a hero, to appear in his cupboard and tell him that he was taking him away. Where were they going, anyway? The door was the other way around. He was not about to question the man, though. He stared with interest as he fetched a small, maroon bag from his pocket and opened it. Then he took out a long, thin stick. Harry subconsciously wrapped his arms around his torso. Sticks reminded him of canes, and canes were the most painful of all. His eyes grew wide as the man flicked the wand and murmured something, and a yellow light shot from his wand.

Fire appeared. Harry yelped. Then the man tossed some green powder from his bag and the fire turned green.

"Okay. Ready to leave, Potter?"

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><p><em>I much appreciate reviews!<em>


	2. Chapter 2

_Thanks for the reviews in the previous chapter!_

_I don't own anything._

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><p>"Well? What are you waiting for?"<p>

Harry's eyebrows furrowed and he looked up at Snape.

"Ehrm… Excuse me?"

"Get in!"

Harry's stomach sunk. The man wasn't here to save him… he was here to punish him! He gave a step back. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia had burnt his hands and arms in the stove before. Aunt Petunia had even pressed the searing hot pan against his bare back, or legs. But they had never burnt him in the chimney. He figured it was a lot worse. It would be like getting burnt by the stove everywhere at the same time. He hugged himself and looked at Snape with tears in his eyes. What had he done? He had done everything the man had asked him to do! Perhaps he had said something wrong? He swallowed and looked at the green fire. Would it hurt more just because it was green? He was trembling even more and he let out a little whimper when Snape's foot began to tap.

"I… I'm sorry, sir. I-I d-didn't mean to…"

"What the hell are you talking about now, Potter? Just get in. I am an occupied man, and if you must know, I follow a very tight schedule. Would you be so gentle as to GET THE HELL INTO THE CHIMNEY!" he said intensely.

Harry jumped at the harsh tone and a slight sob escaped him. He gave more steps back. "P-please, no. N-not the fire. I-I… P-please, please don't burn me."

"Burn you? Why would you – oh." He sighed and rubbed his eyes. He was such an idiot. The kid thought he was going to burn him. He sighed. He winced as he realized for the first time that the boy was only wearing a pair of raggedy pants. There was no time for that right now, though. He grabbed the boy's undamaged wrist. "Listen to me, and listen to me good because I won't repeat it. You won't get burned, and it won't hurt. Now come with me before I push you inside, Potter."

The child swallowed. This man was very harsh for a hero. He slowly stepped into the fire with his eyes clenched, and barely heard the man pronounce something.

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><p>Voldemort was pacing back and forth in one of the Malfoy's living room. Lucius was behind him, staring at him. It was raining again. The blonde frowned as a thunder clapped and Voldemort growled.<p>

"Where on Earth is that man?" he hissed.

"My Lord…"

"You would do good to keep quiet, Lucius. I am not in the mood to chit-chat."

"Yes, milord."

Voldemort kept on pacing with a frown on his face, until the chimney turned green and a 'poof' startled both men. Voldemort's smirk grew until it turned into a nasty smile as he saw two shadows from behind the green smoke. He clasped his hands behind his back and cocked his head to the side. He noted briefly that the child was smaller than he would've expected, but shrugged it off soon enough and almost laughed when he saw Snape clutching the child's wrist.

"Why Severus, I was almost certain that you wouldn't bring him."

"Please, my Lord. Have I ever failed you?"

"No, not at all. Bring him closer."

Harry cringed at the strange voice. He could see two tall figures standing there. He hated being around adults. He didn't expect anything but pain from adults, especially if there were many of them. He swallowed as Severus pulled him closer. He gasped and almost yelped as he saw the… man before him. Hot tears seared his eyes. The man was terrifying! He looked like a snake! He yanked his hand away from the bigger one clasped around his wrist and froze in his place, not daring to get closer to the other two men. He almost –_ almost – _preferred Uncle Vernon.

"Come closer, child." Voldemort spoke. "I want to admire you."

Harry swallowed. "W-who a-are you?" he whispered.

The man chuckled. "My, my. A little shy, are we." Voldemort said. "Come closer, and we'll talk."

Harry stepped closer, finally stepping out of the smoke and shadows. Voldemort's smirk vanished. Lucius's eyes widened. The Lord spared a glance at Severus and the latter cleared his throat.

"He has not been as… _guarded_… as Dumbledore thought." Snape commented.

"Yes, I can see that. Tell me, child, didn't your relatives treat you well?"

"U-uncle Vernon said it could be worse."

"Of course he did." He sighed. "So slender. When was the last time you ate?"

"T-this morning… sir." He said. Then he mentally kicked himself. Now he'd have to wait at least another week to get food!

"And the last time before that?"

"A-a week and a half ago… s-s-sir."

Voldemort sighed and studied the child before him a little bit. "Well, we'd certainly have to heal him, won't we?"

"H-heal him, sir?" Malfoy asked. "I thought you wanted to kill him."

Harry gasped. Voldemort chuckled.

"Now, now, Lucius. No need to scare the little kid. I never said I planned to kill him, now did I?"

"No, sir. But – "

"But nothing. We'll heal him and feed him. Call your elf. Tell him to prepare a warm bed and meal for our new guest." He ordered.

"Yes, sir."

"Now, Harry… Why don't you come with me? Lucius? May I borrow some of Draco's clothes? The child badly needs a shirt and pants."

"Of course, milord."

"Good, good." He walked up to Harry and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Severus, why don't you bring some healing potions? I'm sure you've got something for all this bruises and welts, don't you?"

"Of course, Lord."

"Good. Then, Lucius, can you show us a warm, cozy room to place Harry in?"

"Of course. Dobby!" he called. The thin, small elf appeared at the door, trembling. His glassy eyes took a look at the child and he gasped. Harry gasped as well. What was _that?_ It surely wasn't human. And it surprised him to realize how much they resembled at that moment. Both were small, scared, at the verge of tears and wearing rags. "Take Harry and his Highness to the most comfortable room in the mansion. Fast!"

Dobby nodded and led the way. Voldemort smiled and gently pulled Harry with him. Severus apparated back at Spinners End. Lucius called another elf to prepare food and take it to the new room.

And so, Harry began to realize that he really _did_ have a new home. He stared in awe at the big room. There was a double bed in the middle, against a wall which had a portrait of a woman above it. A closet occupied the whole wall next to the bed, and a widow the whole wall in front of it. It was currently covered by green curtains. Voldemort smiled as he saw Harry's face.

"T-this is for me?" he whispered.

"Why, of course, Harry. Why don't you make yourself comfortable while Dobby brings some clothes for you?"

Dobby instantly disappeared and Harry walked up to the bed in a dreamlike state. He touched it. The blanket was warm and soft, and it smelled clean. He was almost scared to sit on it. He wanted to believe it was real, but it was all too much. He turned around to see Voldemort staring at him, smirking, leaning against the doorframe.

"Uh-uhm… S-sir?"

"Yes, Harry?"

"I-I don't understand anything."

"What do you mean?"

Harry looked at his bare toes. He didn't know where to begin. "W-who are you?"

"I am Lord Voldemort."

Harry's head snapped up. "Voldemort? That means Fly of Death in French."

"Suits me." He muttered. Harry gave a tiny step back, swallowing. "But not for you, child." He hesitated for a moment. He wanted the child to trust him, and Death was not a good start, especially after Lucius's bright idea of suggesting that he was going to kill him. He debated with his pride, dignity and reluctance to accept his past and sighed. It'd have to do for now. For now. "If you prefer, you may call me by my real name." he swallowed. Oh, why? "Tom Riddle."

"Oh. Okay. Uhm… Mr. Riddle, why did you save me? I mean… how did you… and Mr. Snape… and… and…"

"Harry… You have never, ever heard of me?"

"No."

"Howarts? Albus Dumbledore?"

"N-no."

"Magic?"

"T-there's n-no such thing as… magic… Mr. Riddle."

"Who told you that?" Voldemort asked, frowning.

"U-uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia." He said. "Magic isn't real. And Freaky stuff is bad. Freaks like me don't deserve to live. They… they don't…" he swallowed and looked down, tears filling his eyes. He subconsciously hugged himself again. "They don't like it when freaky stuff happens. Magic is wrong, and bad. And…"

"Okay, silence." Voldemort said, his voice strained. "You have much to learn, Harry. But for now, you should rest."

Dobby appeared behind Voldemort with neatly folded clothes in his hands. Voldemort took them and put them on Harry's bed before kneeling down to be eyelevel with him. Harry whimpered and tried to step back, but hit the bed and trembled. Badly.

"S-sorry…"

"Listen. Soon, Severus will come with healing potions. After we apply them, you'll change into your new clothes and get a meal. We'll discuss everything tomorrow. Sounds good?"

"Y-yes, sir."

Voldemort nodded and stood up. "Now, get a bath. There's a shower across the hall. Don't use too much soap, or it'll hurt you. And try to use shampoo."

"Yes, sir."

.

Harry sat wrapped in a long, soft towel on his bed. He stared as the two men spoke.

"I can deal with the bruises and the welts. Perhaps the malnourishment, and the burn marks. But the broken wrist and ribs, and sprained ankle should be checked by a healer, my Lord. Besides, there may be infections or internal injuries." Snape said.

"Well, then we'll heal what we can and take him to a healer first thing tomorrow." Voldemort answered.

Snape nodded and turned to Harry. He gently unwrapped the towel from around him and took the first potion. He softly explained to Harry what he was going to do. Although, Harry noticed that the strained voice and dark accent never left his words. "This will help with the bruising. I'm sure it hurts whatever you touch."

He gently applied a little salve on every visible bruise… which was something, considering almost every inch of his body and face was darkened. It took him a long while, before he went on with every welt, and then every burn. Harry winced and gasped here and, there, but other than that, showed no signs of pain. On the contrary, he began to relax as the healing began. Severus made him chug down various potions and he sighed in content. The throbbing in his belly stopped, as well as the pain on his body. The coldness that had accompanied him for a long time subsided, and he felt his body claiming a much needed rest. He looked up at Voldemort and the man looked down at him, lost in thoughts. Finally, Snape helped him to slip into the warm, green pajamas.

Dobby appeared at the door, carrying a tray of food. "Masters, Dobby was tolds to brings food for Harry Potter."

Voldemort nodded and Dobby walked slowly and unsteadily up to Harry's bed, placing the tray on his lap. Harry's eyes widened. There was a plate of warm soup, a steaming, delicious looking beef, French potatoes, a salad, an ice cream and a glass of orange juice. It surprised Harry how it didn't weigh. But, eh, everything here was strange anyway. He leaned back on the pillows and began to stuff the soup into his mouth. He was full by the time he reached half of the steak and looked longingly at the potatoes, salad and ice-cream. He wanted to eat, but he was so full…

Voldemort seemed to notice.

"Why don't you leave that for tomorrow, Harry? You should rest now."

Harry's eyes widened as he realized he _could _eat the next day, and nodded.

* * *

><p>As soon as he made sure the child was asleep, Voldemort walked down to the living room and looked out the window, Lucius and Snape standing behind him.<p>

"I surely hope Narcissa agrees with Harry staying here for the night, Lucius."

"Yes, sir. She does."

"However, he can't stay here for long. Dumbledore would suspect. Besides, I don't trust a child to hold a secret, and as soon as Draco enters Howarts, he would speak about Potter staying in his house, wouldn't he?"

"What do you suggest, sir?"

"He must stay somewhere. And I must, as well. Somewhere Dumbledore wouldn't dare look."

"Sir…"

"Somewhere like Spinners End."

"Sir, I…"

"You wouldn't mind me staying there for some time, would you, Severus?"

Snape sighed. "No, sir. Not at all."

"Good. Then tomorrow we'll move there. Oh, but don't worry. I won't be around. You know, I must never stay at one place. Harry, however…"

"Sir, if you don't mind my asking… What will you do with the child? Will he go to Howarts?"

"Oh, no. I would not let the child near Dumbledore… The old man can be so… persuasive, would you say? No, no, no. He'll stay at Spinners End as of now. I have one goal: Harry will not be my enemy. He will be my apprentice."

"A-apprentice?" Both minions asked, astounded.

"Yes, why not? Imagine this scenario: Who will the child rather go to: The man who abandoned him in an abusive household, or the man who rescued him from said place? When the time is due, will the child listen to the man he'll grow to hate, and kill me, or will he listen to the man who _fathered_ him, and sacrifice himself for me?" he said.

Snape's eyes widened. "You intend to…"

"To beat the Prophecy, yes. And I think my plan has just begun. I've moved my pawns. Now it is fair time I choose a stronger, more valuable piece. And we'll see how Dumbledore watches his king fall to pieces." He laughed maniacally, and soon after Lucius followed suit.

Snape didn't. He just thought of the child sleeping upstairs. The child who had lost it all.

And yet, had lived.

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><p><em>Ok.<em>

_I am not sure if Harry will go to Howarts or not. What do you guys think?_

_Find out in the next chapter! Reviews are much appreciated. _


	3. Chapter 3

Thanks for the amazing reviews! Please keep on suggesting!

I don't own anything.

**Warning:** Child Abuse and Swearing

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><p>Harry woke up and yawned. It had been a long time since he woke up so refreshed. He sighed deeply as he prepared to get up and prepare the Dursley's breakfast, but then something else caught his attention…. Too many things were not right…<p>

He was not hungry and tired. The air around him wasn't uncomfortable and he could actually take a deep breath without inhaling dust. He was not lying on a hard cot covered I a thin ratty blanket; he was actually very comfy, on a soft, squishy bed where he could stretch his limbs and still not touch the edges of the bed, covered with various warm, thick blankets. And last, but not least, he was not as sore as he usually was every night. He slowly opened his eyes and caught a glance at the dark room, the events of the day before coming to his mind in a rush.

He sat up slowly and cradled his injured wrist, looking around. He could see it was early in the morning by the light that was seeping from behind the green curtains. He got off of the bed and briefly wondered if he should go and prepare breakfast… he had no idea where the kitchen was, but then again, he hadn't known how to cook when he was younger and that didn't stop his relatives from punishing him for not doing it.

He slid off the bed and grabbed his glasses from his nightstand. He got off of the bed, extremely mindful of his injured ankle, and limped up to the window, sliding the curtains open. The sun shone on him and he smiled, squinting. He subconsciously lifted a hand up to his eyes and noticed that, although they hurt, they weren't swollen anymore. He looked down at his body and rolled his sleeves up, noticing with a grin on his face that the welts were now mere scratches, the cuts that had once bled were now red, thin marks, and the black, bluish and yellowed bruises were now just light, purplish spots on his otherwise pale skin. He was still hurting a little, but felt amazingly well compared to how he usually felt every day.

He then focused on the scene before him. He was on a high floor of the mansion, considering how far the floor was from his window. He could see that the house was located in the outskirts of a forest. He could see trees stretching out where his eyes couldn't see. There was a beautiful, transparent lake at the side of the manor, and the sun shone on the beautiful garden that was being kept by a creature that looked like Dobby.

"Enjoying the scene?"

Harry jumped, startled, and gasped a little as his forehead hurt. He turned around with a hand on his scar to see Voldemort walking up to him. The man noticed his discomfort and raised an eyebrow.

"Hello, Mr. Riddle."

"Does it hurt? Your… scar?"

"Oh…" Harry took his hand away from his forehead and shook his head. "No, I…"

"Did it hurt yesterday, boy? When you first saw me. Did it hurt?"

"Uhm… Everything hurt yesterday, sir."

That made sense. Did his scar hurt every time Voldemort was near? Perhaps it did, but he hadn't noticed the day before because he was too scared, too hurt and it just mixed with his other injuries. Voldemort swallowed. That'd be a problem.

"Has it ever hurt before?"

"Sometimes." He muttered. He looked up at Voldemort with wide eyes. "Do you think my scar is freaky, too? It was a car crash! It wasn't my fault."

"Your scar is not 'freaky', Harry. Uhm… About the car crash… Who told you that?"

"Aunt Petunia said that my parents were driving drunken one day and the car crashed. They died, but I survived with only this scar." He pointed at it.

Voldemort sighed. This was going to be very complicated. "Sit down, Harry. We need to talk." The child nodded and sat at the edge of the bed. "Has it ever happened to you, that when you are extremely angry, or sad, or scared, strange things happen?"

Harry frowned. Yes, it had happened. A lot. He remembered everything, from the smallest things, like levitating objects or lights flickering off, to appearing on the kitchen's roof of the school or turning his teacher's hair blue. Every single thing had meant a beating, even if he cried and pleaded that he hadn't meant to, that he didn't know how it had happened, and that he'd try to fix it. But Uncle Vernon always went mad when something like that happened. When he was little it happened a lot. Then, it stopped happening that often, but that didn't mean Harry stopped fearing it. It was 'freaky' stuff.

"Yes." He said. "But-but it wasn't me. It was never me."

"Oh, but it was you. It was you all the time, Harry. It's called accidental magic. And it is not bad, and it is not wrong. It just happens, to every witch and wizard in the world."

"What?" he muttered, raising an eyebrow.

"You're a young wizard, Harry."

"I can't be a wizard."

"Why not? Those weird things that happen around you when you get strong feelings are nothing but magic, Harry. Magic exists, and wizards and witches exist all around the world." He turned to look out the window. "But it is only permitted to do real magic since you turn eleven. Oh, well. We'll talk about the Ministry a little later. It is such a complicated matter as it is." He thought out loud. "Anyway. Your birthday is approaching, Harry, and so, as soon as you turn eleven, you'll get a wand."

"T-then… then everything in Dudley's books is true? Dragons, castles, unicorns… All of it?"

"Oh, yes."

"But… then there are also villains. Aren't there?"

Voldemort hesitated at this. He sighed. "Villains are such a… strange matter, Harry. One side may think that the other is a villain, and vice versa."

"But there is Dark Magic, isn't there?" he muttered.

"Well, the Ministry certainly considers that some spells are Dark Magic. Do you know what I think? It's nonsense. Magic is a beautiful thing, in all its forms."

"What if it is to kill somebody?"

"You certainly like to question, don't you? Killing isn't always bad, Harry. Don't tell me you've never dreamed of killing your uncle when he was beating you."

"I wanted him to stop. Not to die."

"Oh, innocence. So sweet and poor." He smiled evilly. "Tell me, Harry. What if I told you that your parents were killed by a wizard? And the same wizard that gave you that scar on your forehead. Wouldn't you want revenge?"

"I…" he thought for a moment. "My parents were killed?"

"Yes."

"…who?"

"That's unimportant now."

"No! Tell me!"

"Perhaps another day."

"I want to know!"

"Why? You wish to kill him? You want to spill his blood?"

"I… I don't…"

"You wish to, don't you?" Voldemort hissed. "It's very understandable, Harry. And I wouldn't judge you. In that case, a killing spell wouldn't sound that bad, would it?"

Harry looked at the floor. "I just want to know who did it."

"Join me."

"E-excuse me?"

"Join me and we'll find him."

"M-mr. Riddle…"

"I will take care of you, Harry. You will be safe. No more pain."

"No more… pain."

"No." he looked down into the boy's eyes. "Just you and me." He extended his hand and Harry looked at it. He took a deep breath and nodded, grabbing the man's hand and shaking it, ignoring the constant sting on his forehead.

* * *

><p>"Severus, you know I am extremely weak as of now."<p>

"Yes, Master."

"The Unicorn's blood is my only solution while we get the stone."

"I don't recommend…"

"I know, Severus." He tried to change the subject. "The child knows his parents were killed."

"By you?"

"No. By another wizard. I was thinking on telling him that it had been Dumbledore." He smiled. "But I'll let him wonder. Instead, I've been thinking about letting him go to Howarts."

"That wouldn't be a very prudent move, my Lord. They'll mention your name with fear and despise. He'll probably be sent to Griffyndor. He'll be too close to Dumbledore and…"

"But he'll be close to you as well." He said. "And you can make sure that he understands that I am just being misjudged, right? Besides, I am his rescuer."

"They know you killed them."

"Severus…"

"Dumbledore knows that he is the last horcux. And he'll be sure to tell him."

"Severus, Harry and I are bound by more than flesh. A part of me is inside of him, residing in that scar that so adorably adorns his face." He chuckled. "Dumbledore _knows _that Harry is destined to die, doesn't he? He has told you that Harry will die eventually. What he doesn't know is that it will be me who kills him so that I can live."

"Sir… I can't assure you that Potter will remain loyal to you."

"Oh, but he will. Anyway, I am not sure about it. Perhaps he'll just stay at Spinners End until I am strong enough to advance. I don't know. It is just a thought. I am not entirely sure about it." he smiled slightly. "Why don't you make yourself useful and ask Dumbledore when is Harry's letter going to arrive?"

Snape almost growled. "Yes, sir."

"Oh, and be a good boy and pick it up before the Dursleys see it."

"Yes, sir."

'A good boy?' he thought bitterly as he walked to the chimney. 'I am fucking older than you, Riddle. Fuck you.'

Voldemort laughed and rolled his wand between his fingers. Harry suddenly appeared on the doorway, wearing clean clothes.

"Sir?"

"Yes, Harry?"

"May I go outside?"

"Why, of course." He grinned. "And tell Dobby to bring Draco along with you. It would be nice if you two were to befriend each other."

Harry raised an eyebrow and nodded, going to look for Dobby in the kitchen.

* * *

><p>He stared at the clean water and the small fish that swam at the bottom. He whirled around when he heard footsteps behind him. He frowned as he saw a small boy, about his age, with blond hair combed backwards and an arrogant air around him. He looked at him with a raised eyebrow and stopped just before him, arms crossed above his chest and blue eyes locked on green ones. He suddenly sent his hand forward.<p>

"Draco Malfoy."

"Harry Potter."

* * *

><p>Uh oh. So Harry and Malfoy met at last. Will they be friends? Foes?<p>

Uhm, before you kill me, this DOES NOT mean Harry will go to Howarts. But it DOES NOT mean he won't either.

I have not decided yet. What do you think?

Please review!


	4. Chapter 4

OH MY GOD. You are entirely right. Voldemort is waaay older than Snape.

Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry. I didn't mean to screw it up like that. Just ignore that. SNAPE IS YOUNGER THATN VOLDEMORT. Thanks for clearing that up for me.

And thanks for the reviews, guys!

I don't own anyything.

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><p>"Harry Potter? <em>The<em> Harry Potter?"

"Uh… What?"

Draco frowned in confusion. "Yes. That's the scar. But how did you get here? Do you know who's inside there?"

"Uhm… Mr. Snape brought me here through a green fire thingy. A-and I believe only Mr. Riddle is inside."

Draco's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Did Harry Potter not know who he was? And what the hell with that 'Mr. Riddle' thing? Didn't Harry know who Voldemort was? He swallowed thickly. The most feared Dark Wizard that had ever existed in the history of the Magical World was staying at _his_ house for the time being. Damn his parents being Death Eaters. He was terrified of the man to no end, and he didn't know what to say to Harry Potter. What if he foiled any plans the Dark Lord had for him? He crossed his arms and looked at him up and down. Harry raised an eyebrow at him and leaned backwards. He didn't like people looking at him that way.

"I see you two have already met." A voice hissed behind them. A hand was placed non-too-gently on Draco's shoulder as Lucius looked down at Harry. "And Potter, heavens agree, you look dazzling today." Harry couldn't decide if that was sarcasm or not, so he simply gave a half smile and looked down.

Draco looked between his father and Harry. Did his father just call Harry by his last name? Was he missing something?

"So, Potter." Lucius continued. "Snape will arrive soon with the healer. You don't want to keep them waiting, now do you?"

Harry flinched slightly at the calm but strained tone in the man's voice. It was always worse this way. He promptly shook his head and headed inside. Lucius stayed silent for a moment, with his hand firmly planted on his son's shoulder, as he followed the tiny boy with his eyes. Once he made sure that he was inside, he turned to Draco. The small boy looked up at him, his eyes filled with confusion. His father removed his hand form his son's shoulder and palced it back over his other hand, at the top of his long, black cane.

"Dad… That was Harry Potter."

"Such a bright boy." His father spat out sarcastically. Draco blushed slightly before turning to look at his house.

"But… but the Dark Lord is inside."

"I _know_ that, Draco." His father sighed. "It was the Dark Lord's idea." He sent an icy glare at his son. "Listen to me. The Dark Lord's plans shall not be foiled, you hear me? One wrong move and you'll regret it, kid. Potter knows nothing. _Nothing. _If you tell him, you'll be in big trouble. Okay?"

Draco nodded and stared with his brows furrowed at the door of the mansion.

* * *

><p>"Well, well. Look who's back." Voldemort said. Harry stared at the two other men. One was Severus, the other one was like a walking corpse. The man was overly thin and pale. He was so wrinkled that his skin seemed to be hanging from his face. There were a few white hairs on his head. He was wearing a black robe as well. He looked down at Harry and smiled toothily, showing yellowed, disheveled teeth.<p>

"Well, hello there, Mr. Potter."

"Uh… Hi."

"This is Fordergard Frustum." Voldemort said, drawing a hand out to indicate the man who he was referring to… although it was obvious. "He'll be tending to your remaining injuries."

Harry nodded quickly and subconsciously cradled his hand. Frustum looked up at Voldemort, who nodded curtly. The oldest man walked up to Harry and the child instinctively leaned backwards. Voldemort noticed and frowned.

"Why don't you come and sit on the couch, Harry?"

Harry nodded and sidestepped the man, walking up to the big leather couch and jumping up to sit on it. He nervously played with his fingers as he looked back and forth between the three men. He didn't like going to hospitals. It was always the same. When he broke a bone too severely that it could be noticed, and had to go to school the next day, Uncle Vernon always resorted to the Hospital. But it was always the same crap. Uncle Vernon always made him suffer, squeezing the broken appendage until he cried. Then he'd drag him to the car and drive far away, away from the neighbors and the nearby hospital, taking Harry to a care center where nobody would recognize them. There, he'd make up a story about how Harry was a horrible bully and ended up in fights with older kids who easily beat him up. He was so thin because he refused to eat, of course, in his crazy little whim, but he had a psychologist for that. And the scars? Oh, wouldn't you believe it, a car crash that killed his parents.

And then the doctor would be satisfied and, learning that Harry was some kind of spoiled to the goddamn core, rebellious bully, he'd treat the little boy non-too-gently.

Frustum kneeled down to be eyelevel with Harry and smiled at him.

"How old are you, Harry?"

"Ten." He said quietly.

"Oh. Such a big boy. Why don't you let me see your wrist?"

Harry hesitated and looked up at Voldemort.

"Show him, Harry. It's okay."

Harry nodded and slowly extended his trembling arm to the man, who took it gently and stared at it. "Tell me if this hurts." He said. He pressed on each side of the wrist and Harry gasped. The healer nodded and then pressed from above and below. Harry also gasped. Then, he took his hand and rotated it. Harry whimpered and tried to pull back.

Voldemort didn't like to see Harry in pain, so he growled warningly. Unfortunately, Harry thought it was directed to him, instead of the healer. He jumped and threw his free arm in front of his face, wincing. His breathing became absurdly fast and he swallowed heavily.

"I… I'm sorry." He whimpered.

The healer sighed and softly pushed Harry's arm back down, ignoring Voldemort's growl. "It's okay, child. I'm not going to hurt you. I know it is a little painful but it is only for your well-being. Okay? Just relax. We'll be done in no time." He soothed. Harry swallowed and nodded. The man gently rotated his hand to the other side, making Harry whimper again. He bit his lip, trembling, awaiting a blow to the head. But it didn't come. The man just pushed his hand back, and then pulled it forward, all the while taking mental notes on the boy's reactions. Finally, he took out his wand and placed it gently on the boy's wrist.

"This is not going to hurt at all, Harry."

Harry nodded and watched as the man muttered something while he waved his wand. Harry gasped as his wrist lost the awful swell and stopped throbbing. The healer smiled at Harry's awed face and then pushed his arms to his sides, going to inspect his ribs. As he did so, Snape turned around and walked out. Voldemort looked at him and then back at Harry. When he decided that the child was safe and calm, he followed the Professor outside. The younger man sensed his Master following him and stopped, not turning around.

"What's the hurry, Severus?" he asked.

"Dumbledore needs me."

"He does, does he?" Voldemort muttered. "Does he already know that I took Harry?"

"I have no idea, sir."

"Then go, and do bring back all the information, Severus."

The man gave a curt nod before apparating away.

* * *

><p>Howarts stood tall under the bright sun. Severus had to squint as he looked up at the giant castle. He sighed as he walked up to the gates and opened them with a flick of his wand. The gates screeched as they moved backwards to allow the dark man to enter. He steadily walked all the way into the castle and then headed for the was unnerving to see the usually crowded halls so empty in the middle of the day. Even in Christmas there were at least a few little rodents running around, chasing each other and wrapped in their holiday's warm outfits. He didn't like to be alone in Howarts. He arrived at the gargoyle that guarded Dumbledore's office and looked up at it, his lip curling up in hatred.<p>

He remembered when he was young, emotionally and physically destroyed from the Marauder's attacks, and he went to Dumbledore for assistance. The gargoyle _always_ made jokes on how his hair was now bright pink, or his eyes were swollen, or how he was vomiting slugs or the fingers in his hands were all crooked and wrong.

"Fizzing Whizbees." He muttered.

The gargoyle smirked and moved aside. "Long time no see." It said through its rock-like voice.

"Fuck you." He rasped.

Dumbledore was patting Fawkes when he arrived. The bird looked at him and whistled. Dumbledore turned around and clasped his hands behind his back, smiling at Snape. The younger man nodded curtly in acknowledgement and crossed his arms.

"Severus, it's nice to see you."

"Albus."

"How have you been?"

"Busy."

"Anything new to tell me, Severus?"

"No."

"The Dark Lord – "

" – Is the same as always. Nothing new. Nothing of _your_ concern." He glared at the man. "Now, do _you_ have anything new to tell me, Professor?"

"Oh, Merlin, yes." He sighed. He looked at Severus and caressed his beard, pacing back and forth slowly. "I've sent the letters, Severus."

"You – what?"

"I sent the letters a week ago. The Durselys burnt every single one I sent."

"Figures." He said, rolling his eyes. "Petunia wasn't a fan of magic, really."

"I know but…" he frowned. "What worries me is that there is something wrong with the wards, Severus."

"Oh?"

"I can't see what it is. It is not Voldemort. I would've been notified immediately. But… but the wards only get damaged if the Dursleys die, if Harry turns 17, or if he… stops living there."

"Stops living there? What do you mean, Albus?"

Severus was confused now. Potter had been away from his home only one night and barely a morning. He hadn't _lived_ away per se.

"What I mean is that he found a new home." He bit his lip. "He has stopped considering the Dursley's house as his own."

Severus's heart stopped. After getting fed, healed, bathed and clothed, it was obvious that Harry would indeed consider Malfoy's house as his own. Or anywhere where Voldemort was, anyway. He crossed his arms, deep in thought.

"Send Hagrid to fetch him." He suggested, trying to sound calm even as a million thoughts crossed his head.

"I will once he turns eleven." Dumbledore answered. "I'm just afraid that he won't be there when Hagrid goes for him."

"You mean… if he ran away?"

"Yes. I mean exactly that, Severus."

"Albus, have you ever considered that if he stopped seeing the Dursley's house as his own, perhaps he _has _a reason?" he said. He sighed in frustration when the old man raised an eyebrow at him. "You have not checked on him since you left him on their doorway almost ten years ago, Albus. The only thing that snapped you back to attention was the fact that he'll be eleven soon and needs to come to Howarts. That, and the fact that he presumably ran away from home."

"Severus, I know you are concerned, but I am entirely sure that Petunia would treat Harry as good as she treats Dudley. I trust her in that. She is Lily's sister after all." He said. "Besides, the Dursleys are our only solution as of now to keep Harry safe from Voldemort."

Snape almost laughed at that. It was ironic how Voldemort was the one keeping Harry safe from the Dursleys. He frowned at the man.

"Then I suppose we'll have to wait until Hagrid retrieves him."

"I suppose."

There was a stretch of silence before Severus rolled his eyes and grunted.

"I'll go home now."

"Right." Dumbledore said, rubbing his eyes. Snape noticed just then that the man hadn't slept for days. And he knew that Harry wasn't the main reason for that. "You do that. Good luck, Severus."

Snape nodded curtly before turning away, his cape swirling behind him.

"Oh. And, Severus?" the man stopped but didn't turn around. Didn't even turn his head. "Just remember you vowed Lily that you'd keep Harry safe, no matter what… This is not The-Boy-Who-Lived, Severus. This is Lily's son."

"I already know that." He said grimly. "And I will keep my promise."

* * *

><p>Review!<p> 


	5. Chapter 5

_Thanks for the reviews!_

I watched Harry Potter and the PS today :') I cried. Almost. So good :) And Snape.. Gods, I remember when I hated Snape. Ah, good times, good times.

I don't own anything.

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><p><strong>Warning:<strong> Child Abuse. Swearing.

* * *

><p>Several days had passed. Harry was already getting used to live at the Malfoy Manor. Voldemort had decided to let him stay there some more time, until Snape got some things settled at Spinner's End. Lucius was almost never at home, and Harry and Draco had begun to grow more as friends than foes, playing around all day, or talking for hours on end. Things were relatively calm for the dark side.<p>

Things, however, were turmoil for the good side.

Dumbledore sat on his desk, rubbing his eyes with one hand as he held his glasses with the other. He was considerably exhausted, and right now, he felt like his head would burst. Before him, on the mahogany desk laid a letter. It was a yellowish, crumpled piece of paper with hurried, ugly handwriting. Dumbledore grabbed it again and scanned it with his eyes, as if reading it for the eleventh time would change its contents.

_Dumbledore,_

_The brat escaped days ago. He hasn't come back, and we wouldn't want him if he did. The child left and we, fortunately, have no idea where he is. He was a useless burden and a waste of space; and you can shove your blood wards up to where the sun won't shine, because we couldn't care the hell less. He is a freak, an abomination, and he belongs in your world, not ours. It surprises me that he isn't with you either, but I couldn't care less in any case._

_So, STOP SENDING US THOSE GODDAMN OWLS. The child is not here! Vernon is head over heels with those goddamn animals! The neighbors are freaking out! We'd send the freaking boy if he was here with us but he isn't! He left! Those owls can go back to your damn school and fly around, crapping on your shoulders for all I care! We have no idea where the child is; he left without trace and had no belongings. And, what you said about him 'finding a new home'… This was never Potter's home. Lily is no longer my sister. She's DEAD and every trace of her left my heart when she left for that goddamn school. So stop sending the owls, or Vernon will take his gun out._

_Sincerely, _

_Petunia Evans._

Dumbledore sighed and glanced at the poor owl who the Dursleys had caught to tie the letter to. Venus was standing on one foot, the other one injured by uncaring hands, and she was missing a considerable portion of her feathers. She hooted softly before tucking her head beneath her wing. The man put his glasses back on and looked up as he heard the gargoyle sliding open. Minerva McGonagall walked up to his desk and glanced at him with a worried expression. She stood before his desk and sighed heavily. She also had bags under her eyes and looked positively exhausted. Venus hooted and flew over to her shoulder. McGonagall scratched her head gently as he stared at the old man.

"Albus."

"Minerva. I do hope you are coming with good news."

She pursued her lips. "No, Albus." She said softly, watching as the man's shoulders sagged. "The Ministry has not found him. They say they can't track him until he does some kind of magic. Up until then, he is hidden."

"Oh, Merlin." He said. He stood up and sighed.

"You should rest, Albus."

"Heavens know I will not get one second of sleep with Harry in my mind, Minerva."

"Albus…"

"Minerva… You know many students often see Howarts as their home. We have orphans here who think Howarts is their new home." He said. "But Harry was supposed to have a home of his own. I mean… Once he arrived to Howarts, if he started to consider Howarts as his home, nothing would've happened, because Howarts would've been his second home anyway. But…" he sighed again. "But that only means there is someone else out there with him."

"If it's a muggle, he's in danger." Minerva commented quietly.

Dumbledore looked at his hands blankly. "Oh, I daresay Minerva, Harry is in danger even if he is behind a wizard's cloak." He said. "There are very few wizards who I have not contacted or talked to at some point of my life, and I trust that most of them would bring him to me. He is important… He is the last horrocrux."

"Albus…" she muttered. However, she got interrupted as Severus entered the room.

* * *

><p>Harry laughed as Draco splashed water onto him.<p>

"It's not funny!" Draco said, a playful smile on his face despite the crimson color his face had gained from embarrassment. He was now dripping water, having tripped on a rock when they were both racing to the lake. Still laughing, Harry helped him climb out of the water. Draco glared at him. "Shut up, Potter."

Harry's laughter slowly diminished until he heaved out a sigh of content. Lately, he had come to laugh too much for everything, perhaps because at the Dursleys he was punished severely if he so much as smiled. He gave Draco an innocent smile and giggled.

"Sorry, Draco. Couldn't help it."

"Whatever." The blond replied, rolling his eyes. "I won, anyway."

"No, you didn't!" Harry covered his lips to stop his laughter. "Getting help from the rocks is not winning!" He burst out laughing again and Draco pushed his shoulder playfully, rolling his eyes again.

"You should never get a Malfoy angry, _Potter._"

"Oh, Malfoy, please don't be angry." Harry said in a mocking tone. "I'd hate it if you used your rock allies against me!" he laughed again.

"Stop it! You'll see!"

Harry grinned. "Hey, wanna watch the elves get rid of the fairies?"

Draco smiled. "Sure thing."

As they began to walk back, Harry felt the stinging that he had grown used to. He began to like it rather than hate it, because now it was just a little itch that told him when Voldemort was near or where he was. Draco had also begun to understand that every time Harry scratched his forehead, Voldemort was there, and it freaked the hell out of him. He hated the man with all his might. He knew that Voldemort was the reason why his father was always angry at him and his mother was constantly crying. Besides, he feared the man to no end and just wanted him out of his life.

However, Harry seemed to like Voldemort, much as if he was his own father. He understood that, of course. Harry had not mentioned too many things of his past, but he knew enough when a person hadn't been treated well. Harry looked up at Voldemort as his 'savior'. And Draco owned it to Voldemort that now he was not the bored little boy he used to be, always secluded in his room watching the elves fight the fairies from his window or sitting by the lake all alone until his mother came to bring him in.

Both boys turned around. Harry beamed. Draco looked at the floor, trying with all his might not to tremble.

"My, my. What on Earth happened to you, Draco? You're soaking."

Harry laughed. "We were having a race and he tripped on a rock."

Draco blushed and glared at Harry. Voldemort smiled, and made a mental note not to become so happy when the child smiled. He was attaching too much. "Merlin, Draco. You should be more careful. What would your father say? Surely this is not the way Lucius would like to see his son."

"Yessir." He uttered quietly.

"Why don't you go and change your clothes before you get ill, dear boy. I need to speak to Harry."

Draco sighed and nodded, walking away. Voldemort turned to Harry and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"How are you today, Harry?"

"Good, sir."

"I see Draco and you have gotten quite close."

"Yes." Harry said with a smile. "He is very angry sometimes, but other than that, he is great!"

"I'm sure he is great company while I'm away."

Harry nodded. The two of them stared at the lake and Harry finally looked up at him.

"Mr. Riddle? You wanted to talk to me?"

Voldemort looked down at him without moving his head and then looked up again. He had one hand behind his back, the other one playing with his long wand. He slowly shook his head.

"No, my dear boy." Voldemort said. "I just wanted to spend time with you."

"As always?"

"As always."

Although he had debated with himself and had almost resorted to punish himself like an elf, Voldemort couldn't deny it. He was beginning to care for Harry. Tom Riddle had been a heartless man since he could remember, hurting his peers at the orphanage, torturing people, annihilating millions and subduing muggles and wizards equally to do his bidding, either by threats or by the Imperius charm. He had no regard for anything, he only had power in his mind, and he'd die for power if that was the case… But that wasn't the case, because he was not willing to die either way. He looked down at the little boy as he happily told Voldemort about his day. He sighed.

He remembered caring for very few things in his life: His mother when he was a baby, Wilanny Anne Woodsyard when he studied at Howarts, and Nagini. His mother had died, Wilanny had died, and Nagini was the only thing he had left… But that was rather selfish, because Nagini was partially him.

And Harry was, too. But he doubted that was the cause why he cared for him. He himself had killed children. Why would he care so much for the Golden Boy? He was just a pawn.

And playing chess, what kind of smart player feels closer to just one pawn? If he tried to protect one pawn, his king would be approached and killed.

He swallowed.

* * *

><p>"<em>You are a freak boy. You are pathetic, disgusting, weak and an idiot. Nobody loves you, and nobody will ever love you." Vernon said.<em>

_The little boy was crying silently as his Uncle said this to him. It wasn't the first time, and it certainly wouldn't be the last, but he just couldn't keep the tears at bay. The awful truth cut him like a thousand knives and burnt him like a stake. He had his arms wrapped around his knees and warm tears felt steadily down his pale cheeks. Vernon smiled as he saw the miserable boy. He turned towards the drawer that he had located in the basement. Harry's eyes widened and he let out a terrified wail, trying to press himself further into the wall._

"_Shut it, Potter. It is bad enough that I have to do this. You are dirty and your blood is freakish and disgusting. No, it isn't even blood. What runs through your veins is disgusting grease and oil. It smells bad, it looks bad, it makes you bad. You're a bad boy and need to be punished." He said. The five-year old closed his eyes tightly. "So, Harry, what do you think I should use?"_

"_Please…"_

"_Belt? Yes. Leather? Yes, I think. Silver buckle? Yes, maybe. Ah, this one is perfect." He mused as he looked at his display of punishing tools and finally withdrew a long, thick, wide, heavy black leather belt with an enormous silver buckle. It was not a beautiful belt, nor was it fancy or a good choice of work attire. But it was extremely good at its current job. Harry sniffed. _

"_Please, it was an accident." He whimpered. _

"_These accidents happen because you are freakish, boy. I am helping you."_

"_I d-didn't mean to break the plate… I-I f-fell from the stool."_

"_Shut it, freak."_

_He slowly approached the little kid and Harry sobbed desperately with the terror that coursed through him. Vernon pulled his foot back and then sent it forward, right into the child's face. A sickening crack echoed across the basement and blood poured out of Harry's nose as he fell on his stomach on the cold floor. He put both hands on his bleeding nose and tried to drag himself away, but his Uncle's heavy boot landed on his shoulder, keeping him still. Harry cried loudly now, trying to squirm out, but his body froze when the first crack landed on his back. He covered his mouth with his hand to force himself not to scream. Another, and another, and another… Harry lost count of them. He desperately tried to plead, but the only things that came out of his mouth were desperate sobs and strained whimpers._

_Vernon finally finished and gave a step back, panting. He let the bloodied belt fall to the floor and the boy flinched when he heard the sound. If it wasn't for it, he wouldn't have known that Vernon was over. He swallowed and prayed to God his punishment was over._

"_That plate was Pet's favorite, boy."_

"_S-s-sorry." He whispered._

"_You'll pay for it. Tomorrow was your food day. Well, now you've ruined it. Two weeks without food day. Understand?"_

_Harry nodded, defeated. He was already so thirsty from his beating and he had been so hungry for the previous days… To think that he'd only be able to eat and drink something in two weeks… He let out a whimpering cry as his uncle grabbed his hair and pulled him up. Harry tried to stand on wobbly legs, but the pain and blood-loss was to much, and he collapsed on his scraped knees. Vernon growled and grabbed his thin arm, dragging him from the ground and upstairs. He dragged the little boy into the kitchen shoved him to the ground, making him fall on his hands and knees again. He reached over to the frying pan and coated it with oil, putting it on the stove to boil. Harry's eyes widened with fright and he tried to crawl away, but Vernon grabbed the back of his bloodied shirt and then the pan. He pulled the boy closer and began to hit him with the burning pan, the oil falling on the crying child…_

Voldemort woke with a start as he heard a scream down the hall. He didn't sleep very often, and only a few hours every few days. His condition forced him to stay awake. Therefore, when he found his sleep interrupted, he felt like he needed to punch his disrupter in the goddamn face. However, he recognized that scream all too well. He got up from the couch and put his book aside, walking upstairs and into Harry's bedroom. The child was sitting up, hugging his knees as tears ran down his face.

"Harry…" he said. Harry jumped and looked up at him. "Are you okay?"

Harry gulped and pressed his back against the headboard. "I-I'm s-sorry if I woke you up." He muttered. "I… I j-just…"

"I wasn't sleeping." He lied. He walked over to Harry's bed and sat on the edge, looking into his green eyes. "Why did you scream?"

"N-nightmare." He whispered. "I'm sorry."

"For what, Harry? It isn't your fault."

"For being weak."

"You're… not… Did Dursley tell you that you were weak when you had nightmares?"

Harry nodded and closed his eyes. "Sorry."

Voldemort sighed. "You're not weak for having nightmares, okay? It can happen to anyone. You're the bravest boy I've ever known, Harry." He assured. "What was that nightmare about?"

"U-uncle Vernon."

"What was he doing?"

"Punishing me."

"For what?"

"I-I was preparing f-food for them and-and I slipped and fell off-off of the-the stool, aand b-broke the plate." He uttered quietly. Voldemort hesitantly put a hand on his shoulder and Harry relaxed ever so slightly. He flicked his wand, and in an instant there was a glass with warm milk in his hand. He handed it to the trembling child.

"Drink."

Harry grabbed the glass and shakily took it to his lips. The warmth of the thick liquid coursed through him and he sighed, finally releasing his knees. He continued drinking and was surprised when Voldemort cleaned his tears with his own black cape. Harry smiled up at him, silently thanking him for everything… But suddenly, there was a loud crack in the air and Narcissa appeared in the middle of the room. Harry yelped in surprise and the glass fell from his hand, onto the bed, and rolled down to the ground. He gasped and jumped from the bed, staring at the mess with wide eyes. He was such an idiot! Mr. Riddle has given him a warm glass of milk and he had spilled it all over the bed, Mr. Riddle's clothes and the floor!

He walked backwards until he hit the wall. He was going to get it! He was gasping rather than breathing. Voldemort flicked his wand and the milk disappeared, but Harry was not relieved. He was trembling badly, his terror consuming him. Voldemort would beat him to unconsciousness and there would be no healer afterwards! He regretted eating more than usual, because now he'd be even hungrier when they took his food away! He began to sob as the fear grew inside of him. He threw his arms across his face and closed his eyes shut, trying not to make a sound. His chest was hurting by the time Voldemort got up and started to walk up to him.

"Sorry… sorry… sorry…" he repeated in a tiny little voice.

"Harry…" the child flinched and slid to the floor, curling up into a ball. "Harry, it's okay."

"Sorry… I didn't mean to… sorry…"

Voldemort sighed as he watched the child pleading for the second time in the night. He sighed and grabbed the child's arms gently, pulling them away from his face. Harry looked up at him with pure dread.

"Harry, it's ok. Really. You know I'd never hurt you."

Harry sniffed. "It was an accident…"

"I know, child."

"Y-you're not angry?"

"No, not in the least."

Harry sighed in relief and Voldemort slowly released his arms. Harry stood up and cleaned his tears. Suddenly, he leapt at Voldemort and hugged his midsection, burying his face in is black robes. Voldemort was extremely shocked, but he slowly put his hands on the child's head and almost smiled. Harry quickly let go and beamed up at him. Voldemort patted his head and turned to Narcissa. Her expression bothered him to no end.

Narcissa Malfoy was a pale woman by nature, but this was ridiculous. The short display had her skin almost as white as Voldemort's. Her eyes were wide and her pupils were tiny. Her thin lips were parted as her mouth hung open, the skin on her cheeks looking as if it was going to break anytime now. She furrowed her eyebrows and swallowed. Did she just see her Lord be gentle to a child? No, scratch that. Did she just see her Lord be gentle to _Harry Potter?_

"Narcissa," Voldemort spoke "I do believe you had something to tell Harry if you suddenly apparated in his room."

"Oh," she said quietly, looking at the floor. "No, my Lord. I was by the lake and heard him screaming. I wanted to see if everything was okay."

"And why, pray tell, are you so concerned for him all of a sudden?"

Narcissa shifted uncomfortably. "I thought he might have been with Draco."

"Draco should start taking care of himself, Narcissa. And you know why."

Narcissa's eyes watered and she nodded. Before any of them could say anything, she disappeared with a crack. Harry stared at the spot she had come from and awkwardly got on the bed.

"She doesn't like me."

"She's just a little queer, Harry." Voldemort said. "She only has eyes for her son."

"Like Aunt Petunia." Harry looked away. "There's always someone better than me everywhere."

"What makes you think that Draco is better than you?"

"He's like Dudley. Aunt Petunia loved him more just because. She just…" he closed his eyes tightly. "Why did she love him more? What's wrong with me? Narcissa doesn't even talk to me and she doesn't like me already!"

"Child…" Voldemort sighed. "Narcissa is a complicated woman. She doesn't like anyone, not even her own husband. She only loves her son and rarely her sister. Don't pay attention to her, Harry." He smiled. "I like you better than Draco, if that makes you feel better."

Harry smiled a little. "Draco is a good person."

"I know." He pushed Harry so that he was lying on his bed and covered him with the sheets. "But you have a brighter future than him."

"…Why?"

"You're just… destined to become different things, Harry." He smiled. "It's good you're both purebloods, in any case."

"Purebloods?"

"Both of your parents were wizards. Muggles are… revolting."

"Not all muggles are evil." Harry said, although he could not think of more than two people who had been nice to him.

"There's no such thing as good and evil, dear boy." Voldemort said. "There's just Power, and the people who are too weak to get it. Muggles, for example."

Harry rubbed his eyes. "There's not just power. There are more things."

"Like what?"

"…Friendship. Love."

"Please, Harry… Don't tell me…"

"I don't know why you saved me, Mr. Riddle, but I know I'd sacrifice many things for you. And that has nothing to do with power."

Voldemort swallowed. His heart seemed to stop and he froze… The boy had just said that he'd die for him… He frowned and swallowed again. He looked at the boy whose eyelids were dropping and the child smiled weakly. Voldemort looked at his hands… Did the child just admit that he loved him? Had the child just caused a horrible earthquake that had shaken the base of his ideals and principles? Had the child gotten so deep as to break through the darkest of his being? Had _this_ child brought the light out of him? He growled quietly and fisted his hands in anger and self-betrayal. He was exposing himself. 'Come on, Tom' he told himself. 'Love is for the weak. You are a being who scares people shitless. There's no space for love inside of you.'

"Love makes you weak, child."

But Harry was already asleep. He frowned and hesitantly reached over, burying his long, cold fingers in the child's messy hair. He quickly pulled back and got up, closing the door behind him.

"I am Lord Voldemort." He growled. "I don't love."

* * *

><p>Snape quietly paced back and forth in his room at Spinner's End. He had just been at a meeting with Dumbledore. There was nothing new. The child would be eleven in two weeks. The school year would start in two weeks. He sighed and rubbed his eyes, sitting down on the table. Many thoughts raced through his head and he could feel a migraine building up. He stayed still for some minutes before the small debate inside of him was over and his heart won over his reason. He opened his drawer with a small spell and took out an old book. <em>'History of Dark Magic: The Avada Kedabra.'<em>, read the leather cover. He opened the yellowed pages and instantly found the old photo.

It wasn't much. Just him and Lily the day before going to Howarts. They were smiling up at the camera, waving and laughing. She was grabbing his hand and giving it a soft squeeze. He stared at the picture for some time before he felt the all-too-familiar feeling on his chest. There was a knot in his throat and he placed the picture inside the book again. Finally, all alone in is dark room, Severus Snape felt the muscles of his face strain against his stoic mask… which finally disappeared as the dark man wept silently for his eternal love.

"Oh, Lily…" he whispered. "Protecting your child is going to be harder than I thought."

* * *

><p><em>Aww, my Snapey :( <em>

_Don't worry, guys. Next chapters will have action, I swear!_

_Please review :)_


	6. Chapter 6

Goodness. I keep sayind stupid things.

I didn't mean to say that Harry's birthday and the first day of school would be on the same day.

I got my mind confused, it was late, I'm sorry. This is the real quote:

"The child would be eleven in two weeks. The school year would start in **six** weeks."

Thanks for making me realize my mistake. Enjoy the brand new chapter :)

* * *

><p>Dudley absentmindedly watched as his mother washed the frying pan from the dinner they had just consumed with a force akin to frustration. He knew she wasn't used to it. That was Harry's job. He looked back at his video game and sighed with annoyance as he noticed it was still loading. He grabbed the large cup of water and took it to his lips, swallowing. He sighed as his mind drifted back to Harry.<p>

His relationship with his cousin was strange. He grew up very familiar with abuse, although he didn't live it directly. He was just an onlooker, and a very frequent one at that. He didn't care much really. He liked to shrug it off. Harry was a freak, and he deserved what he got. At school they had taught him to be good to his family… but when he had asked his parents, they had just said that Harry was a different case because he was dangerous and he needed to be reminded of his place lest he try to take advantage of their kindness. His dad even made it a point that they treated the boy _too_ well. So Dudley grew up learning to cope with it… To accept it, even.

But Dudley was smarter than they gave him credit for, and a bad feeling had always been inside of him. He couldn't place it… For starters, he didn't even like his cousin very much, and loved to bully him. He had inherited his father's need for power, and watching the small boy cower certainly gave him a strong feeling of power.

But Dudley was just a boy, and, unlike his father, his emotions weren't completely dark. Once in a while, Dudley felt absolute pity for his tiny cousin, and did little things for him. He tried to make his favors go unnoticed for the boy's sake, but sometimes he just couldn't.

He remembered that time when he had walked into the kitchen and saw his tiny cousin standing on the doorway. Both were around four, and Petunia was glaring at Harry. The slight boy had his head down, his hands nervously wrenching the hem of his shirt. Dudley stayed behind as to not be noticed. Petunia scoffed and turned around to look out the window. Dudley saw Harry's shoulders slumping even more and he slowly lifted his head.

"But… Aunt Petunia..:" he said quietly. "I-I haven't eaten for almost a week."

"And how long did Vernon say your punishment would have to last?" she had asked with a stern voice as she turned back to glare at him.

"A week." He muttered. "But-but… I jus' want a tiny sip of water. Just a little bit! It's so hot out there…"

"I already told you. There's one sip of water every two days. And I gave you one yesterday. Now go back to your chores before your uncle gets home."

Harry's lower lip trembled and he tried to stifle a sob. "But I'm so thirsty…" he whimpered. Before the child could react, Petunia slapped him on his cheek. He uttered a half-sob half-gasp and backed away one step.

"I said NO! You're so annoying! Get back to your chores, you little bastard!" she started insulting him as she hit his tiny head with her open palm. "Go back to the garden! NOW!"

The crying boy ran past Dudley and went outside. Now, Dudley was naturally a very thirsty boy. He couldn't imagine going a day without a glass of water, much less with that weather. It was so warm; he was only wearing a pair of white underwear as he walked around the house. Now, being a very naïve, he had just thought his mother was very busy spying on the neighbors to give Harry a glass of water, and he had decided to help. His mother, conveniently, had walked out of the kitchen after ruffling his hair and blowing him a kiss, so he had stepped onto Harry's stool and reached for a glass, filling it with water. He quickly climbed down and went outside.

It had been warmer than he had thought, and the heat of the day hit him like a concrete wall. He squinted his eyes and walked up to his tiny cousin, who was currently pulling out weeds, his body shaking with sobs. He had called for him, and when the tiny child turned around, he had handed him the glass. He still remembered the way his eyes had brightened up. He couldn't understand how somebody could be so happy over such a plain thing like a glass of water, but Harry had been ecstatic. He had grabbed it and gulped it down… but before he could thank the other boy, Vernon had arrived to see his nephew with a glass in his hand and his lips wet.

Dudley couldn't remember ever seeing somebody's eyes fill with so much fear.

He could barely remember what had happened next, but he knew it involved his mother singing a lullaby as he heard distant desperate pleading and screams from the cupboard…

He shook his head as tons of memories assaulted him.

He remembered, too, that time when they were six-years-old. Dudley had already gotten a friend: Piers Polkiss. He was a good boy around adults, but a very mischievous boy when he was with kids his age. If Dudley bothered Harry before, he certainly outright bullied him now under Polkiss's influence. They chased Harry around and pushed him to the ground when the caught up to him. They'd laugh when he passed out after running too much. But Dudley had one memory that was buried deep within him.

Harry used to have a teddy bear. It had seen better days, but Harry loved it, even if he had found it one day next to a garbage bin, tattered, dirty and with one of its eyes falling off. Dudley remembered seeing Harry always sitting on the playground, hugging the bear to him. The young, fat child was used to see his cousin rock back and forth and tremble as if he was in pain… but doing it while he held the only toy he had ever had, was a disturbing sight. Dudley remembered thinking that hugging that bear was the closest thing Harry had (and would) ever have of a real embrace.

So, anyway, one day, Polkiss had told Dudley that they should go 'Harry Hunting'. They began looking for him, and spotted him behind the cafeteria, clinging tightly to his bear as he rocked back and forth and sobbed onto the toy's fluffy head. Polkiss sneered and walked up to the tiny child. "You're such a weirdo, Potter! That thing is so ugly!"

Harry looked up at him trough tear-filled eyes and backed away. "Leave me alone." He muttered.

"Give it to me, Potter." Polkiss said. "I want to play with it."

"No! It's mine!"

"Come on, Potter! Share with us."

"Come on, Polkiss. Let's get out of here." Dudley said. He didn't know why, but he felt a strange sense of pity towards Harry. Somehow, his six-year-old sub consciousness understood that the teddy bear was everything Harry had in the world. He didn't really want to take it away from him, and he knew that Polkiss would tear his head off or throw it far out of Harry's reach. To land on the branches of an oak, for example. But Polkiss wouldn't give in so easily. He walked up to Harry and grabbed the bear's head, pulling at it.

"GIVE-IT-TO-ME POTTER!" he screamed.

"NO! It's mine!" Harry said. But he was weak. His bruised arms and swollen fingers gave in and Polkiss smiled nastily as he held the dirty toy from the ear. "Ugh… This thing is disgusting."

Harry hastily scrambled to his feet and tried to reach for the toy, but his ribs hurt and he cringed back. "Polkiss… Please." Harry pleaded, his voice sounding oddly tired. He was panting rather than breathing as if he had been running a lot. "Please, please. Please."

"Polkiss, come on. Let's play with the sand or something."

But Polkiss ignored him. "I think I'll rip its ugly head right off."

"NO!" Harry shrieked. "Please, Polkiss! No!" tears began to stream down his face. "Please." He sobbed. "Please, Polkiss…"

"Whoa. Calm down. Don't be such a baby."

"Please… He's everything I've got…"

Polkiss had rolled his eyes and tossed the bear back at Harry, who hugged it with all his might. It had been all for nothing, though, because Vernon had tossed it into the chimney a few months later after Harry had burnt his bacon. Dudley had never seen a face filled with so much pain, sadness, angst and desperation. It chilled him to the bone.

And although Dudley hated his little cousin and bullied him, beat him at school, laughed at his misfortune and purposely stomped a little too hard on the stairs to make Harry's ceiling fall on him, he'd sometimes try to make Harry's life a little less miserable. Sometimes, Harry looked so hungry that Dudley would enter the cupboard without his parents noticing, and leave half an apple or some crumbs of bread for his cousin to eat when he went back into the cupboard. He remembered hearing Harry cry (in joy, he supposed), when he got inside and found that he could eat. Sometimes, Dudley would also give him tiny, broken toy soldiers so that he wouldn't be so bored when he was inside his cupboard. He'd also leave some painkillers and a little bit of water in his pitcher when he caught his parents hitting him. And other stuff like that…

He just didn't know why his parents would treat him _so _bad. Sure, he was a freak, and dangerous, and he just made himself be hated, but why hit him when he hadn't done anything wrong? He just couldn't blame his tiny cousin for escaping.

The game finally finished loading and he grabbed his controller. But, just before he could press the start button, there was a knock at the door. Who could be visiting so late?

* * *

><p>"<em>Sev." Lily said, with tears in her eyes. "I… Oh, God." She tried not to break into tears.<em>

"_I know." He muttered. "But he's not as bad as everyone thinks he is."_

"_Excuse me? Not as bad? Severus it's You-Know-Who we're talking about here! He's no saint!" Lily argued._

"_And what am I supposed to do, Lily? He'd kill me if I said no!" he said roughly. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "My father doesn't want me back home, Lily. And he's spotted me already. I won't put anyone else in danger. He offered me…"_

"_Nothing he could've ever offered you can be used up as an excuse, Severus." She said, glaring at him. "He's evil… and you're not."_

"_You don't know me." He growled._

"_I've know you since we were kids, Sev." She said, walking up to him. "I don't want you to be harmed."_

"_Harmed?" he scoffed. "How harmed? Harmed by a spell, like the ones your oh-so-sweet Potter and his gang throw at me?" he growled. "They'd Crucio me if it wasn't against the fucking law." He spat. "Besides, Lily, it's not like I have a choice in the matter either."_

"_You can get protection from Dumbledore, Sev."_

"_Dumbledore fucking hates me, Lily." The dark teenager said. "He loves the Marauders with his soul, and Potter being his golden boy, why would he ever try to protect me?" he sighed. "Besides, I don't want to trouble Dumbledore. And don't you go on telling him either, Lily. I'm telling this to you because you are my friend. I trust you."_

"_I won't tell anyone, Severus." She assured. "But… how dangerous can it be for a girl to hang out with a Death Eater?"_

_Severus sighed with frustration. "It's not like I have another choice, Lily! Besides, I won't be a Death Eater per se. He said that he'll only need some favors. It's nothing. It will keep you safe."_

"_Safe?"_

_Severus sighed and grabbed her wrists. "I had no other option, Lily. But I swear that once he stops needing me, we'll forget about him. Besides, we're in school. I doubt he'll bother me much while we're in school. Trust me." He said. "Okay?"_

_Lily leapt at him and wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly and finally starting to cry. "You're my best friend, Sev."_

Severus tossed and turned in his bed, the sheets wrapping around his pale, thin form as another dream entered his memory.

"_I'll keep you all safe, Lily. Even him."_

"_This is more than what you can handle." She said._

"_No, it isn't. He trusts me. I can…"_

"_I don't want you to put yourself into more risk than you've already have, Sev." She said. "Peter will keep us guarded."_

_Severus clenched his jaw. Voldemort had mentioned something about a new Death Eater. And it was a good friend of Potter's. For some reason, Pettigrew was the only one he could think of. Sure, he was the one who had never laughed at his misery, and only seemed to cower before him… but that was why he suspected of him in the first place. Black was a loyal dog. A fucking, filthy, stupid, mischievous dog, but a loyal dog nonetheless. Lupin was too good and proud to become a Death Eater. He was the only one who didn't _hate_ Snape as much as the others. But Pettigrew…_

"_I don't know, Lily…"_

"_Sev…" she said gently, putting a hand on his face. "Just promise me something. Will you?"_

"_Anything."_

"_If something – anything – happens to me and Prongs, make sure Harry is safe. Will you?"_

"_Lily, that child… If he is to bring your demise upon his birth, I can't promise you that I'll want him to live. Much less if I know all along that he is Potter's son."_

"_Oh, Severus." She sobbed. "It isn't the baby's fault." She said. "Please. Promise me you will protect him. Please."_

"_I'll… do what I can, Lily." He said. "I'll do what I can to protect all of you." He vowed. "I swear."_

"_Thanks, Sev." She said, relieved. She gave him a kiss on the cheek. "You're the best man in the world."_

Severus awoke as the sun shined on him. He groaned and sat up, rubbing his forehead. He remembered those years. He remembered being around fifth or sixth year when he received his father's news that he didn't want him home. The elegant, long handwriting of his father had brought his world down as he told his only son that his mother, Eileen Prince, had passed away. Now, Tobias and Severus's relationship had always been full of tension and hatred. The only reason why he kept Severus in the house was because Eileen demanded it… which in turn caused a lot of fighting in the house.

Lily had just forgiven him for calling her Mudblood in a fit of rage and angst, when Voldemort had contacted him in a dream. He had told him that he needed a strong, talented, Dark Arts expert Slytherin. He had told him that, despite being a half-blood, he was the perfect for the job. Severus had accepted without a second thought. He had told Lily. Lily had been broken… and regretfully, the new information had pulled her a little bit closer to James's side. Severus knew that at that point, Lily liked James, although they had officially started dating when they started seventh year.

Now, Severus hadn't turned into a Death Eater per se until he graduated from Howarts. He and his closest companions had finished their school years to be recruited by Voldemort. The years after that were dark and full of hatred. That, until he contacted Lily again one day, and she in turn called Dumbledore. His life had changed, and some time before Lily got married, he started switching sides. He was turned into a member of the Order some time before her death.

He stretched and pushed his covers back. He walked over to the window and crossed his arms as he stared at the Muggle neighborhood around Spinner's End, which he had inherited – much thanks to his mother – after his father's death. It was really early, considering the sun was only starting to shine from behind the mountains. He rolled his eyes as he heard the fire in the chimney in the first flood start cracking. He walked down and wasn't surprised when he saw Dumbledore's face searching for him. He kneeled in front of it and glared at the old man. Couldn't he just leave him alone?

"Ah, Severus!" Dumbledore exclaimed. "Please floo to my office right now! It's urgent!"

* * *

><p><em>A few hours prior.<em>

"Dudders, honey! Will you open the door?" Petunia called.

He rolled his eyes and got up, but before he could reach the door, it burst. Dudley stared at it in shock and fear, before catching a glimpse of the people who stood there. Around five men, all wearing long, black robes stood in the doorway. What unnerved Dudley was the fact that they had masks. Horrible masks. He gave a step back and bumped into his mother, who had his same expression. His father walked downstairs and froze. One of the men walked into the house and lifted his arm.

"Who the hell are you? Get out of my house!" Vernon shouted. "Now! Out!"

The man chuckled and took his hood off. He was the only one without a mask… but that didn't help the matters. The man's face made Dudley scream as he tried to hide behind his father's leg. The man smiled nastily and took out his wand.

"AH!" Petunia screamed. "It's one of them, Vernon!"

"Potter is not here!" Vernon screamed. "He ran away! Don't harm my family! We don't have the boy!"

"Oh, I know that. I made sure of that." He said smoothly. "My name is Lord Voldemort. And I have the child."

"Then what do you want?" Petunia said. "We have nothing else!"

"You were supposed to take care of him, weren't you?"

"We took care of him until he left." Vernon said.

"You absurdly dim-witted muggle. Abusing a child is not taking care of him."

"He was a freak." Vernon spat. "We treated him as such. He is not our son, nor did we want him anyway. You can't blame us. It was you who left the brat with us."

Voldemort glared at him and Vernon tried to back away. "You will pay. You will pay." He muttered darkly. "Bellatrix, do the honors." Voldemort only regretted being so weak at the moment. He couldn't conjure enough energy for a cruciatus curse or an Avada Kedabra. If it wasn't for Snape's help, he'd be a parasite in somebody else's body. He almost shuddered, but then smiled as Bellatrix advanced towards them.

* * *

><p>Snape gaped at the headmaster as he spoke.<p>

"A-are you certain?" he asked.

"More than I have ever been in my life, Severus." He said. "It will be all over the muggle and wizard newspapers by tomorrow, no doubt."

"Tortured and killed?" he muttered.

"The child was found alive, but entered in a coma a few hours later." Dumbledore explained. "And Voldemort's sign was above their house."

"Did it disappear already?"

"Yes."

"But I would've felt it…"

Dumbledore shrugged. "I don't pretend to know Voldemort's antics." He said. "At least not all of them. But there's something I must know, and I will." He sighed and sat down. "I will need you to occupy on some things while I'm incapacitated, Severus."

"Incapa – you don't… Albus, this is madness."

"It's for the sake of both the muggle and the Wizarding World, Severus." He said softly. "I have no other choice."

"Headmaster, please…"

"The Ministry of Magic is debating whether or not to Obliviate the muggles." He said. "If they ask, tell them that I favor the proposition and will help in anything they need as soon as I am ready."

"Albus, you are not twenty-years-old anymore." Severus spat roughly. "You don't have the same energy as before. It may even kill you."

"Oh, Severus. If I hadn't taken life-threatening risks before, who knows what would've been of me. Or the world… or you."

Snape glared at him. "It's a stupidity."

"Perhaps. But a very necessary one nonetheless." He sighed. "Now, I need your help. Entering Voldemort's mind is a task one can't do on his own."

* * *

><p>Okay. Hope you liked it.<p>

If I made another mistake, I AM VERY SORRY, although I'm almost certain that it is perfect this time.

Snape's story is a little off canon, but it is to suit a purpose in the story.

Please review :)


	7. Chapter 7

"Sir, I don't… I can't let you do this."

"Severus, sometimes a man must decide what is best between his sake, and the ones around him. And sadly, this time I must listen to my heart, not you."

"This is preposterous, Albus."

"So is the sudden disappearance of the Wizarding World's Savior." Dumbledore said, sitting on his armchair and taking off his hat. "I am perfectly capable of doing this on my own, but you can ensure that I don't die in the process, Severus. I trust you."

Snape growled. "If you die by accident, Albus, the Dark Lord will rise. And nobody will be there to stop him."

"I can't stop him forever, Severus. That's why we need the Potter boy."

Severus rubbed his eyes. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"If the Dursleys were still alive, and you found Potter before the year started… would you send him back to them?"

"Why, of course. Why wouldn't I?"

Severus shrugged. "What if the brat tells you something about them?" he asked monotonously. "If he tells you that he ran away for a reason."

"Severus… I know you still feel connected to Lily, but the child's welfare is under my protection. I wouldn't let anything bad happen to him. I swear."

Snape glared at him.

"Albus…"

"There's no time to spare, Severus. Shall we begin?"

* * *

><p><em>It was a strange feeling. Dumbledore started to search for the mind far away from his own. It took a lot of energy. He felt like flying on a broom, watching the things below him pass hastily, blurred and whitened as if within thick fog. It was almost like Flooing somewhere… just with a completely darker feeling. Each second took a little bit more of his energy away. <em>

It was a strange feeling. Voldemort closed his eyes shut and gasped. He clenched his fists and stumbled backwards. His head felt as if it was getting ripped apart… but without any pain. It was as if someone was trying to get it without cracking his skull. He blinked a few times but found that the forest around him was fading away. He let out an exasperated yell and clawed at his head. It was like the Legilimens curse… only a thousand times stronger.

The Legilimens needed practice to avoid. This couldn't be helped if one wasn't prepared. And he certainly wasn't at the moment.

_Dumbledore shuddered as he started entering the man's mind. He could practically feel the hatred. The darkness surrounded him for a moment and he felt suffocated within the mind of his enemy. He pondered whether to try a Lumos spell… but any magic would only shorten his energy, and he needed as much time as he could get. He started walking deeper into the dark, and memories began to appear. Blurred images of an old orphanage and crying children. _

_But the darkness disappeared suddenly, giving way to a hooded figure._

"_Dumbledore." It hissed. _

"_Tom…" Dumbledore said gently._

"_You know perfectly well that that isn't my name anymore, old man."_

"_Your name will always be Tom Riddle for me. Voldemort is how people call you when they have not known you."_

"_The people I've tortured and killed have certainly known me." He said. "And they all called me Lord Voldemort."_

"_They didn't know you. They just saw your wand… because you are always hooded. I knew you since you were eleven… even before that." He said._

_Voldemort pushed his hood back to reveal his face. Dumbledore inhaled sharply. He knew horcruxes deformed people… but this was ridiculous. _

"_What? Afraid of what I've become?"_

"_No… Just… startled. I wouldn't have expected you, of all people, to submit yourself to this."_

"_I did it for power." He said. "I don't expect you to understand. So, you came here to talk about my appearance?"_

"_No… Not really. I suppose you've heard that the Boy-Who-Lived is missing."_

"_Ah, yes. Odd thing, isn't it?"_

"_Odd thing, indeed. And why, what a coincidence that your mark appeared above the Dursley's home the night they were brutally tortured and killed."_

_Voldemort chuckled. "What a smart man." He said. "Next time I'll be sure to call you so that you'll be in time for the show."_

"_Where is Potter?" Dumbledore demanded, felling his solid mouth getting forced open and a revitalizing liquid going down his throat, courtesy of Snape back at his office. _

"_I thought you kept track of all your students."_

"_I do. And I know he is alive. Now, Voldemort… it is such a lowly thing to torture children."_

"_I don't torture children, Albus." He said. _

"_Oh? And the Dursley boy?"_

"_He wasn't tortured. He was hexed. If you took a little more time, perhaps you would've noticed that he has no bruises or sequels of the Cruciatus curse. He was stunned by Bellatrix."_

"_Bellatrix Lestrange? She was in Azkaban!"_

"_Oh, ho ho. No, no. __I took her out of there. Did you really think Azkaban was too much for me? I alone started a war, Albus." Voldemort said, a smile spreading across his face. "But you never really notice anything. You always use, but never stop on the details. You didn't notice how utterly unhappy I was back at the Orphanage, and you didn't do anything when you noticed how terribly treated Severus was by his father. It was I who did, and I stole him away from you when he was young."_

"_That's where you're wrong, Tom. I knew about the Orphanage, and I knew about Tobias's treatment of his own son. But I am no god." He said. "Howarts is safe while there are students there. During vacations, when it is all alone, it is not… the dream castle of every child."_

"_You know you are such a smart wizard, Dumbledore." He said. "But you are so blind when it comes to simple things."_

"_Your angst has no place here, Tom."_

_Voldemort growled. "It doesn't, huh? Tell me, if I did have the child, what do you suppose I'd be doing with him?"_

"_Oh, please don't make me start on what my mind has raced through the last days, Tom. Each thought is more terrible than the last."_

"_I _saved _the goddamn child." He said. "Yes. He is with me. Away from his family." _

"_Give him back, Voldemort." Dumbeldore growled._

"_Don't get angry, you old fool. Let me tell you something. When the child was found by my assistants," he refrained from mentioning Snape, "he was in a bad shape. He was not the spoiled little brat we all believed him to be. Love made him survive, and we both know it. But he survived just to get abused."_

"_There's no need to make up stories…" Dumbledore said uneasily._

"_I am not making up any story. Why else would I have killed those bastards?" he snarled. "The child I took under my wing was a malnourished, beaten, scarred, frightened little boy who thought he was a freak because he could do magic." He said, exasperated. "And you still want to take him from me. I, who did what you could not! I, who fed him, healed him, sheltered him… You can't grasp the meaning of it."_

_Dumbledore stayed silent for a while. Had the child really been abused by his family? "You can't drag him to your side forcefully, Tom."_

"_Forcefully? Please, Albus. Who is forcing things around here? Do you really think he will want to leave my side after all I've done for him?"_

"_You can't give him anything good, Tom. Only evil and hatred."_

"_And I suppose you can, oh-mighty-Dumbledore. What now? You're going to tell me that you won't toss him aside until you need him? Because you picked that child up from Godric's Hollow after I killed his parents, put him at Number Four's doorstep and left, never to inquire on him again until something stirred your feelings. Didn't you?" he demanded."Didn't you just let Snape go back to Spinner's End summer after summer even when he told you, crying, that Tobias would beat him as soon as he got home?"_

"_Enough!" Dumbledore said. He pointed his long finger at Voldemort. The latter's eyes widened. He had never seen Dumbledore this angry… or angry, whatsoever. "You have no right to disapprove of me, Voldemort! I did what was fit for the time! You may have not tortured or beat any child, but you killed parents. You left orphans. Just like yourself! And didn't you just say that you hated the Orphanage? You are a hypocrite! You started a War, and now you want to redeem yourself by saving two lonely children?"_

"_This is not about redemption, you old dimwit! This is about fucking Harry Potter getting abused by his bloody relatives! And you still dare question my actions! I may have used power for dark intentions, but I know what I'm doing. You ignored the child while he got beat by his own family!"_

"_Being a Dark Lord gives you no right to do these things, Tom. And whether you like it or not, I'll have Potter back under my cape."_

"_We'll see if you can set the child's mind to go with the man who abandoned him in an abusive place, or if he'll rather stay with the man who saved him."_

"_I warn you one thing, Voldemort: If you have not deliberately killed any child, prepare yourself. You know the prophecy well." He said. "And if you have, then he'll be just another one. And you'll rise again over his ashes." He began to fade slowly. "And that puts you in no position over me, Tom…"_

_Voldemort growled and stared as Dumbledore finally disappeared._

Dumbledore gasped as he got back to his body. He dhot up from his seat and ran to the bathroom, ready to return his dinner. Snape stared after him, anxious, but showing no emotion on his face. As the old man got back, he heavily sat on the couch. His pulse was weak and he could barely breathe.

"I'm going to die." He whispered.

"Oh, silence." Snape said, rolling his eyes. Dumbledore chuckled and closed his eyes, ready to fall asleep for hours on end.

"I realized two things, you know…" he slurred. "The first one is that Voldemort has the child."

"And the second?"

"He cares for him."

And with this, Dumbledore fell asleep on the chair.

* * *

><p>Snape was thrown off the second time that day, and he hadn't even eaten his breakfast.<p>

"But, sir…"

"Don't dare question me, Severus. I am not in the fucking mood."

"Sorry, sir."

"That man has the ability to get under my skin." He growled. "So far, he uncovered something deep within me. I have to get away for a while… I can't let this happen."

"I don't know how he'll react, sir. He is used to get abandoned by the ones he cares for." Snape said quietly as he watched the child sleep on the bed in his guestroom.

Voldemort glared at him and growled. "Fuck you, Snape." Snape raised an eyebrow. Voldemort was really angry. "I can't let that child get under me any longer. I just need some time away, and then, when he's ready, I'll come back and kill him."

Snape's brow twitched at this, but Voldemort ignored him and looked out the window.

* * *

><p>Harry yawned and uncurled from his little ball. The air around him told him that he wasn¡t in his room at Malfoy's Manor even before he opened his eyes. When he did, he found he could barely see anything. He squinted and looked to his side. His glasses lay on a black night desk. He grabbed them and put them on as he sat up. Where was he?<p>

"How nice of you to join us…" Snape said. Harry jumped and turned to look at him.

"M-mr. Snape?"

"My, what a great guesser you are."

"W-where am I?"

"You are at Spinner's End. My home."

"Why?"

"What? You don't like it?" he spat out. Harry blushed.

"No, I do. B-but… why did you move me from the Malfoy Manor?"

"The Lord saw it fit."

"Where is he?"

Snape sighed. "Listen, child. The Dark Lord decided he had to leave for a while to clear some things up. He'll be gone for some time."

"Oh." Harry said quietly, looking down at his hands. "He… he didn't leave because of me, did he?" he whispered. His tone was unnerving. It was desperate, pleading.

"No, child." Snape said. "He didn't leave because of you."

"Really?"

"Really."

* * *

><p>Harry didn't really like living with Snape. The man always seemed to be angry, and it always put Harry on edge. Harry would tremble and sometimes he'd plead, which would make the man angrier and he would storm away. He would never accompany Harry for any meals, although the meals were excellent. He'd almost never talk to him or even look at him. Some days, Harry wouldn't even see him.<p>

A few days passed by and Harry was dressing up in his room. He was just about to put the shirt on, when his door burst open. Harry jumped and yelped, whirling around. Snape stood there, a paper in his hand and his mouth open as if he was about to say something… but stopped himself. Something caught his eye. Something absolutely horrible. Harry whimpered and tried to hide it away, but before he could put his shirt on, Snape snatched it away from him and knelt before him, inspecting furiously with his eyes.

He had known the child had scars. Millions of them, all littering his pale skin, reminders of his survival. He had seen them himself… but there was one he had never seen, not even when he was healing him. There, across his chest, craved in white, thick, horrible lines read the word: "Freak." He raised a hand to touch it but Harry flinched backwards, covering it with his arms and looking at the floor. Snape wondered if there were more, and grabbed the tiny child by his shoulders, turning him around. He almost hurled at the sight.

On the small of his back, somebody had craved "Useless shit". Above, right between his shoulders, he could read, in tiny but thick letters: "No1 will ever love u."

"Child." He said. Harry flinched and turned around, tears streaming down his face. "Why hadn't I seen these?"

"B-b-because…" he whispered. He looked up at Severus. "S-sometimes I can hide some of my scars. Not all of them, just the most terrible of all. I hid them so that you wouldn't see them."

"Why?"

He began to sob and hugged himself. "Because I didn't want you to know I was a freak!"

"You know you aren't."

"But it is written on me. It is what I am." He began to cry strongly now. "I will always be a horrible freak, and a useless shit and nobody will ever love me! Uncle Vernon craved them over and over and over just so that I wouldn't forget it! But…" he fiercely cleaned his tears. "But I didn't want you to start hating me so fast!"

He looked so miserable, crying and choking on his tears as he trembled and slowly rocked back and forth, rubbing his arms with his hands.

"Harry…" Snape sad. "You are not a freak. Nobody hates you, and you are not a useless shit." He put a hand on the trembling boy's shoulder, not knowing what else to do. "You will be a great wizard someday."

Harry sniffed and cleaned his tears, but they didn't stop streaming.

"Now, then, calm down, boy. I brought something for you." Harry looked up at him. "A letter from the Dark Lord."

* * *

><p><em>There you go.<em>

_Thanks for your reviews and keep on doing so x)_


	8. Chapter 8

_Harry,_

The Dark Lord couldn't believe he had actually sent a letter to the child. What could've possessed him of doing so? Wasn't he away from him to stop being so attached?

_How are you, child? I surely hope you're okay. Snape may not be the best of guardians, but believe me, he is trying his best._

Why was he thinking of that goddamned child so much? He wasn't that special. He had met abused children before. For god's sakes, half his army could be a fitting example.

_I am aware that your birthday will be in three days. I don't know if I'll be able to make it, but I'll do what I can. _

He didn't want to see him, but he kept thinking of him. He almost threw up at the thought, but he had to admit it. He missed the child. Why, he didn't know. He was a weak kid. Orphaned, like himself. Abused, like so many others. Cute… like Nagini. But what was it? It couldn't be that he had a part of him inside… could it? Because Nagini did, too, and whether he loved the animal, he didn't really miss her that way.

_There is no point in this letter, to be honest. I just wanted you to know that I didn't leave because I wanted to. I left because I had to, but it won't be long before I return. I promise._

It won't be long, he had said. His mind said that it would be long. It _had_ to be long so that he could be 'cured' of this foul feeling the child was giving him. But something else was telling him that he'd return. What was it, though? What was that 'something else' that kept gnawing at his mind?

_I told you once that we'd get you a wand once you turned eleven. I will get it. I am a man of word. We'll go to that special place I mentioned before where we can get everything, although perhaps I'll have to go disguised. We don't want people to start talking… _

Oh, what would the world say? Is that Lord Voldemort? Oh my God! Voldemort is back! He – he has a child! A child? That's Harry Bloody Potter! Oh, no! We're doomed! Where are the aurors? Where is Dumbledore? Fuck this shit! I'm leaving London!

_Anyway, you are perhaps playing and I won't keep you from doing so any longer. I'll see you soon, Harry. Do try to have fun around Severus! _

_Regards,_

_Tom Riddle._

Sentiment. Pathetic.

* * *

><p>Harry was jumping up and down, giggling, his scars forgotten. Snape raised an eyebrow as he looked at him, his arms crossed across his chest. He waited until the tiny child settled down and sat on the bed, rereading the letter, licking his lips. Snape rolled his eyes and leaned on the doorframe.<p>

"I-it's the first letter I've ever… I mean… No one had ever written me a letter before!" he squealed with joy.

"Amazing." Snape muttered. "So, child… Come downstairs. You're already late for your meal and I'd advise you to consume it before it rots." He said coldly. "I'll be accompanying you."

Harry looked up at him with wide eyes. "Really?"

"Yes. Now, hurry."

Harry jumped from the bed, beaming. This day just kept getting better and better. He rushed down the stairs clutching the letter to his heart and made his way to the dining table. He sat on his usual spot at the end of the large table, and Snape sat at the other end, looking down at the food. Harry clutched his spoon and began to eat the delicious tomato soup. Snape looked at his manners with disgust, but didn't say anything. Let the Dark Lord raise him.

"So, child…" he said after a while. Harry looked up. "There's a… guest coming today."

"A guest?" he said after swallowing.

"Yes. She's a friend of the Dark Lord."

Harry looked at him with slight worry. He wasn't really good at meeting new people. "Is she good?"

Good? Ha. "I suppose it depends." He said. "She'll be staying with us for a while. I just thought I'd let you know ahead of time, so that you won't be surprised."

"What is she called?"

"Bellatrix Lestrange."

* * *

><p>Harry was drawing when he heard the front door opening. He hesitantly got off of his chair and walked slowly out of his room. From the banister, he could see Snape greeting someone. The person had black robes with a hood that went over their head. He frowned a little and stretched his neck to see better. The person took the hood off to reveal a female face, framed by curtains of curly, crazy black hair that looked more like a nest for drunken birds. She smiled and Harry shuddered. Everything on the woman screamed 'Totally insane'.<p>

"Severus!" she exclaimed.

"Bellatrix."

"Oh, come on, Sevy! Didn't you miss me? Why the long face?" she cooed, taking her cape off and giving it to the waiting elf behind her.

"I am not much of an emotional person, Bellatrix."

"No, you're a boring snake." She said, rolling her eyes. "So, what's been going on around here? Goodness, I've been gone for so long."

"Good thing Azkaban didn't ruin your… _spirit._" He said. She didn't seem to get the sarcasm.

"Azkaban is nothing for me, Sev." She said. She looked around and then leaned in to whisper something to him. Harry strained to hear. "I heard the Dark Lord brought the Potter child along for the ride."

Harry creased his eyebrows. What ride?

"Yes, he is here as of now."

"He is? I thought he was staying with the Malfoys!"

"He was, but the Dark Lord brought him over for an undefined period of time. He is upstairs." Snape said. "Follow me. I'll show you your quarters and you'll get a chance to meet the br – the boy."

Bellatrix smiled in that demented way she knew so well. Harry walked quickly back to his room and sat back on his chair to finish up his drawing. He was coloring the sun when he heard the footsteps stop behind him. He hated it when people were behind him, so he quickly turned around. Bellatrix was even scarier up close. He swallowed as she smiled sweetly at him.

"Hello, baby." She said softly. "How are you?"

"Uhm… F-fine Ms."

"Oh, please call me Aunt Bella."

Aunt. Aunts and uncles were never good. Aunt Marge, Aunt Petunia… Aunt Bella. They were all nuts. Was Bellatrix cruel as well?

"O-okay, aunt Bella." He muttered. He expected the expression of pure disgust and hatred that his aunts always threw at him when he mentioned their names, but was surprised when this woman smiled widely and ruffled his hair. He saw Snape's eyebrow twitching, but his expression remained blank. Bellatrix walked – and she did so very oddly – up to Harry's drawing table and saw his drawing and the crayons scattered around. While she inspected the drawing, Harry inspected her. She wore by far the weirdest clothing he had ever seen. The black, long dress looked a lot like a witch from Dudley's books. Hadn't they told him that witches didn't look like the ones from fairytales?

"This is such a cute drawing." She said softly. Harry didn't reply. He looked at the long-heeled leather boots she wore. Not even aunt Petunia wore such long heels. How did could she even walk on that? "Who are they?" she asked.

Harry's eyes wandered to the table and he glanced at his own drawing, blushing. "It's Mr. Riddle, Draco, Mr. Snape and me." He said quietly. Bellatrix looked at Severus briefly and smiled. The man's eyebrows rose. The child had drawn him?

"It's such a cute drawing." She said. "I'm sure Severus would love to put it on his fridge."

Harry's eyes brightened up. He had always wanted his drawings to be put on the fridge. When he was younger, he had tried to make his aunt and uncle love him by giving them drawings he spent much time and effort on. Petunia or Vernon always ripped them apart, burnt them or threw them into the garbage saying they were ugly, worthless and horrible, just like him. He always thought that his drawings were prettier than Dudley's, but Petunia and Vernon always hugged Dudley and kissed him, saying that his drawings were so beautiful, and he was such a great little artist. And they, of course, always put them on the fridge.

But his hopes died suddenly when Snape scoffed. "I don't want drawings on my fridge, thank you very much."

Bellatrix glared at him. "Shut up! It's a great drawing."

"I wouldn't want it even if it was the Mona Lisa."

"Severus…"

"It's okay." Harry said quietly. "The Dursleys didn't like my drawings either."

Bellatrix widened her eyes at Snape and jerked her head in Harry's direction. Snape sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"Fine. If it pleases you I'll put the damn drawing up on the fridge."

He was not going to do it, but he didn't want Bellatrix bitching on him. He was on his last nerves since Dumbledore had written him a letter, right before Bellatrix arrived, telling him that he was sorry, but he had already hired a new DADA teacher. He knew he had to get his being under control or he'd bitchslap Bellatrix and break Harry's neck. His eye twitched when Harry looked up at him with hope and innocence in his eyes.

"Really?"

"Well, well. It would seem you have a heart, Sev."

"Quiet." He growled. He jerked his head and turned around. "Make haste. I'll show you your quarters."

* * *

><p>"He's a cute little boy." She said.<p>

"He's a nuisance."

"Don't be so cruel, Severus." She said. "He's had a rough life."

"He's a wimp. I had a rough life as well, and you did, too."

"We were sniveling little rats when we were ten." She reminded him.

"Not me." He said. "I was rough and hardened by the time I turned eight. He's just like his father… weak, pathetic, attention-seeking, dim-witted…"

"Now, now" Bellatrix said amusedly, "Is the child a nuisance, or is your lost love a nuisance, Severus? The child is not responsible for these things." She said. "He didn't choose his father."

"But the father certainly chose the mother."

Bellatrix was about to reply, but a scream broke the silence upstairs. It surprised her. She had tortured many people before, but few times had she heard such a desperate scream. It was as if someone was getting a very, _very_ strong Cruciatus curse.

"_I won't repeat myself, boy. WHAT. HAPPENED?"_

"_I-I don't know! I swear!" _

_Vernon smacked him on the cheek again. "You think I'm an idiot, don't you?"_

"_No!" he cried. "It wasn't me! I don't know how it happened! I don't know! It wasn't me, I swear!"_

"_Shut it, Potter." He said. "Dudley's face became fuchsia right after you ruined your homework and you mean to tell me it wasn't you?"_

"_B-but… He wuined it! I was finishing my sums and he bwoke it in half!"_

_Vernon punched him again. "Don't blame Dudley for this!" he roared. "Now, how do we fix it?"_

"_I don't know!" he wailed. "I don't know, pwease!"_

_He was punched again. The blood that had been running down his chin and nose for a while was now a cascade. He couldn't breathe properly and was choking. Vernon growled and turned._

"_You just wait. I'll be right back."_

_Harry hugged his legs and grabbed the front of his pants in his tiny hands. He didn't want to miss school again. They were just learning to add, and he was quite good at it, but if he didn't go, he'd get behind and wouldn't learn how to subtract. He sobbed and choked on the blood that ran down his nose and mouth. Vernon came back minutes later, clutching an iron rod in his hand. Harry screamed in fear. _

"_SHUT UP, YOU IDIOT!" Vernon roared, slamming his boot into the child's ribs. The small kid whimpered and wrapped his arms around his torso. _

"_Pweas." He pleaded. "Unca Vewnon, p-pwease."_

"_I said shut up." Vernon growled. With that, he slammed the rod against the child's head."I'll beat the goddamned freakishness out of you, boy." And he began to strike the small child with barely controlled strength._

_He didn't stop, even when Harry was trembling feverishly from the awful pain as the blows tore into his skin like razor blades. His cries of agony didn't subside, but they did grow distant when he curled into a ball to shield his battered body from any further abuse. Unfortunately, that was futile, since Vernon noticed his little attempt to escape from the pain and increased the force of his blows. Some time passed before Harry became too weak to scream and his cries died down, his small body unable to maintain his fetal position anymore. All the while, however, Vernon panted demeaning sentences, just to make Harry feel even more worthless and useless that he already did on a daily basis._

"_You are such a fucking freak." He said as he slammed the rod for the millionth time. A gut-wrenching sound of bones cracking reached his ears and he smiled. "You are disgusting" crack, "hideous" crack, "revolting" crack, "useless." Harry was whimpering now, unable to stop himself. "I don't even know why we keep you here." He said, each word punctuated by a blow. "You are just a nuisance. Your parents killed themselves in a car crash for being drunken bastards and we get you. A freak." Harry didn't know how we was conscious now., He was positive that the majority of his bones were broken. The pain was proof of that. He just wanted it to stop._

'_Stop. Pwease. It wasn't me. I don't know how it happened, pwease. I'm sowy', he tried to say, but it all came out as a broken sob. _

"_You are an ungrateful son of a bitch." Crack. "We _feed_ you, _cloth _you, _shelter_ you, _educate_ you" crack, crack, crack, crack…"and you just won't stop making our lives a living hell." _

_Harry heard Vernon asking him something, but a blow to his head finally rendered him unconscious._

"Harry! Harry!" Bellatrix exclaimed trying to wake the writhing, screaming boy. "Harry, wake up."

Harry gasped and blinked a few times, looking up at the woman. He recoiled from her touch and pressed his back against the headboard. He swallowed and looked back and forth between Bellatrix, who was sitting on the edge of his bed, and Severus, who was standing behind her. He sniffed and hastily cleaned his tears with the back of his hand.

"M-miss. Bellatrix." He muttered.

"_Aunt_ Bella, Harry. I already told you."

"S-sorry."

"No need to apologize, little one." She said softly. "Look at me, baby. What's wrong? Did you have a nightmare?"

"I-I'm s-sorry for waking you up."

"You didn't wake us up." Bellatrix said. "We were talking downstairs. Are you okay? Do you want some milk, some water?"

"Uh…" he looked up at Severus. The man was glaring at him. "No."

"Okay." She said softly.

Only, Severus wasn't glaring at him. He was reading his memories. He was seeing the nightmare. Oh, horror.

"Potter. Why don't you go and wash your face?" he said. "I have something to discuss with Bellatrix."

"Yes sir." He mumbled. He climbed off the bed. His whole body was still trembling, but he managed to walk out of the room and into the bathroom down the hall.

He sighed and sat beside Bellatrix. "That boy is something, isn't he?" she said.

"That's an awful understatement, Bellatrix." He muttered. "The boy's mind is completely destroyed. Unfortunately, he is beyond repair."

"What do you mean?"

"Correcting his mind is impossible now unless we obliviated him. But the Dark Lord won't permit it."

"Why not? If he obliviates Harry, then – "

"Because the child's weaknesses are the Lord's strengths." He said. "But we'll dwell on that matter later. Right now, there's only one thing we can do with Potter."

"Mind to tell me what it is?"

"Restore his mind. We can't erase his memories, but we can help him grow out of them."

"I think I understand you now." She said. "We can help him get over them even if he doesn't forget them completely."

"Yes, but I do believe it will be a painstakingly slow process."

"Being a Death Eater is a job of patience, Severus. We're trained for it."

Snape rolled his eyes. "I wasn't trained to babysit an abused kid."

"Oh, _please. _Of all the houses, tell me which has the greatest rate of abused children."

"Slytherin."

"And you are the head of it, Severus. You can do this."

"I'll go bring the brat a glass of water."

"Right."

Harry came back slowly. Bellatrix was sitting on the bed, looking around. Harry swallowed and stood on the doorway.

"Hey, you're back." She said when she noticed him. "Come and lay down. Severus is bringing a glass of water for you."

"Okay." He muttered. He walked over to the bed and climbed on it.

"Hey, you're still trembling." She said. "What was your dream about?"

"M-my f-f-family."

"They used to hurt you, yes?"

Harry hesitated. Vernon used to say that they hurt him because he deserved it. If he told Bellatrix that they indeed hurt him, would she believe that he had to be hurt as well? It had worked for Marge…

"Y-yes."

"Oh, baby." She said. She began to get closer to him, but Harry flinched backwards, covering himself with the blankets. "Hey, I'm not going to hurt you." She whispered, looking into his wide, terror-struck eyes. "It's okay." She said. "I won't hurt you, baby."

"I-I d-don't… I didn't mean to wake you." He said. "I-I'm s-s-sorry."

"Harry, I already told you. We were not sleeping." She slowly dragged herself across the bed until she was sitting right next to him, facing him. "Harry, I am a friend of the Dark Lord. Just like him, I would never hurt you. He protects you, and I'll protect you as well."

"Why?" he said.

"Because… you're a very special child, my baby."

"_You're a very special child, Dudders, baby. Not like that rotten freak over there."_

"Really? You think?" he muttered.

"Yes." She said. "Yes, you are. Do you trust me?"

Harry slowly nodded. He realized suddenly that tears had been rolling down his cheeks for a while now. Bellatrix reached out slowly and cleaned his tears with her thumbs, ignoring the way he flinched. She continued stroking his cheeks even when they were clean. Harry felt a lump rising in his throat. He was used to people touching him only to cause him pain. Her touch was so light and soft… He slowly leaned into it.

"Hey, listen. I know Snape is a boring git, and the Dark Lord is always busy… but we all care for you. We'll protect you. All of us." She said. Harry nodded and sniffed. "Come here."

She pulled him in for a hug and Harry didn't resist. He was just surprised. No one had ever hugged him before. Not even Mr. Riddle. She held him tightly and he felt that what had been one of his wildest dreams was coming true. He just couldn't hold it in and burst into tears and sobs. Bellatrix rubbed his back.

"Shhh… It's okay, little one. You're going to be okay. It's okay." She muttered, rocking him back and forth. It only made Harry cry louder. He tried to stop, but couldn't. Bellatrix rubbed his head as well and hummed a low song for him, trying to ignore the way his body trembled. "Shhh… We'll be alright. They're gone now." She soothed. "It's alright."

Harry's cries slowly became sobs, whimpers, shuddering sighs, and finally quieted as he fell asleep. Bellatrix helped him lie down and covered him.

"Who would've thought that you could calm a brat down?" Snape said. "You could help the matters around here."

"He needs people who care for him."

"And you just met today."

"He's only ten."

"Eleven soon."

"He's Lily's child, Severus. Doesn't it bother you?"

"To the core, yes. But I'm not going to spoil the heck out of the brat."

"He's a long way from spoiled."

Both left the room quietly. Harry sighed softly in his sleep, a small smile plastered on his lips.

* * *

><p>Review, please :)<p> 


	9. Chapter 9

Remus Lupin rubbed his eyes and continued pacing back and forth in front of Dumbledore's desk. McGonagall entered suddenly, holding a small cup in her hands which Remus grabbed, thanking her with a nod.

"You had said he was safe, Professor."

"I know. I thought he was safe." The man said tiredly.

"You thought… Albus, how could you have put up ward that would keep only You-Know-Who away, but not his followers?"

"The wards are not specific, Remus. They keep the darkest magic away. That includes Voldemort and some of his followers. The darkest of the Death Eaters."

"Albus, I assure you that Worm Tail is not as dark as the rest of them are, He's just a coward. I mean…"

"I get your point, Remus. But we can't start blaming each other now. We have to get Harry Potter back."

"What do you want me to do?"

* * *

><p>"Harry, wake up."<p>

Harry opened his eyes slowly and saw Bella sitting next to him. He stretched and rubbed his eyes.

"Good morning, Aunt Bella."

"Good morning, little one. Do you know what day it is today?"

"Uhm… No."

"It's your birthday, silly!" she said, ruffling his hair. Harry's eyes widened and he smiled. He had never had a birthday party and Bella had promised that he'd have one today. He clapped his tiny hands and grabbed his glasses from the desk, putting them on. He spotted one of Snape's elves standing on the doorway, holding a tray of food. "Your first gift is that you'll eat in bed."

"Really? Mr. Snape won't get mad?"

"Snape is a boring git, Harry. Let's not worry about him as of now. Okay?"

"'kay."

After eating, getting cleaned and dressed up, Harry and Bella went downstairs. Harry squealed when he saw it. The entire living room was covered in balloons and serpentines, along with streamers hanging from the ceiling and a couple of gifts sitting on a table. He jumped in joy and walked over to the table. He had never opened a gift, except that time when he was eight and Mrs. Figg had given him a chocolate wrapped in birthday paper. But that didn't count, because Dudley had eaten it anyways. Bella walked him over to the couch and he sat down. He observed everything with delight. It reminded him of Dudley's parties, but now he was dressed properly, not hungry and wasn't serving the dishes.

"So, Harry… we'll have a birthday party later. Draco and Lucius are coming. I think Snape will be there. And the Dark Lord, of course."

"Mr. Riddle will come?" Harry squealed.

"But of course! He wouldn't miss it for the world!"

Harry beamed. He wanted to see Mr. Riddle so bad. He wanted to tell him everything he had done and show him all of his drawings.

"So, do you want to open your gifts?"

"Yes!"

Bellatrix leaned over and grabbed the first one. It was a small, rectangle-shaped box, wrapped in a strange paper that changed colors.

"This one is from me." She said excitedly. "I hope you like it, dear." Harry opened it carefully, not wanting to rip the beautiful paper. Inside, he found a box with two crayons: a black one and a white one. "I know you love to draw, so I bought you these. They change to whatever color you want, and make any shape you like. They never run out and the ink disappears only by wishing so."

Harry grinned and thanked her. After opening the second gift, which turned out to be a sweater with an H on it, Bellatrix spotted a small, silver box. She didn't remember getting something like that for him. She grabbed it and looked at the small note pasted on it. Harry looked at it as well. _'Potter, go outside and blow the whistle inside this box. Happy Birthday.' _Bellatrix smiled as she recognized the handwriting.

"This one is from Severus." She told him.

Harry's eyes widened. "Really? He got me a gift?"

"Yes, he did. I suppose he felt bad because he couldn't be here today." She said. "Do you want to go outside and try it out?"

"Yeah!"

Both of them walked outside and Harry opened the tiny box. Inside it, there was a small, thin, golden stick. He grabbed it and looked up at Bellatrix before blowing it. They stayed still for a while, before spotting something in the distance. A white dot that was approaching them, fast. Harry frowned before smiling widely. It was an owl! He extended his arm almost automatically and the white bird landed on his elbow. He looked at it. It was so beautiful. Harry caressed her white head and the owl hooted softly.

"This is amazing!" he said.

"It is, isn't it? What will you call her?"

"Hedwig." He said after a while.

* * *

><p>"Bellatrix. Long time no see."<p>

"Lucius… How have you been?" she said coldly.

Bellatrix and Malfoy had never really gotten along. She was too crazy and extravagant. She liked to do things the funny way and she laughed in his face for being too boring. Lucius Malfoy was cold, calculating and efficient. He didn't like when things were done without some kind of plan or scheme. He didn't like the fact that Bellatrix enjoyed being a Death Eater so much. And, most of all, he didn't really like being related, even remotely, to someone who had been in Azkaban. It didn't look good on him. It didn't look good on Narcissa. Nobody knew he was a Death Eater, and his closest business acquaintances would be alarmed. His money hadn't rained down or appeared one day in his pockets. He couldn't lose his contacts. And the Bellatrix scandal had been a big one.

"Hello, Draco." She cooed.

"Hello, Aunt Bella."

"Harry is outside playing with Hedwig. Why don't you go say hi?"

Draco nodded and ran outside.

"Hey, Harry!" he called.

"Draco!" Harry said, running up to him.

"How are you?"

"Fine. Look! Mr. Snape gave me an owl!"

"Snape gave you an owl? Wow." Draco said, looking at Hedwig. "She's pretty."

"I know!"

"Hey, wanna play?"

A few hours passed with the kids running around and Bellatrix preparing the cake before the bell rang. Malfoy, who had been reading the newspaper, put it aside and went to open the door. Voldemort was standing there. He stiffened and then bowed his head.

"My lord."

"Lucius. How are you?"

"Fine. Thank you, sir."

He walked in and hung his cape. Bellatrix went out and smiled widely when she saw him.

"My Lord! I'm so glad to see you."

"Same to you, Bellatrix." He said. "How have you been?"

"Excellent, sir. And Harry is such a sweetheart."

"I'm sure he is." He said. "Mind to tell me where he ran off to?"

"He's outside playing with Draco."

Voldemort walked outside and saw the two of them running around and laughing. He suppressed a small smile and crossed his arms. Draco was the first to notice him and stopped, pale. Harry stopped as well and turned to see what Draco was looking at. His heart skipped a beat and he ran up to Voldemort. The man knelt down and smiled. Harry was giving little hops of joy. Voldemort chuckled and ruffled his hair.

"Well hello there, Harry."

"Mr. Riddle! You came!"

"Of course I came. I told you I would, didn't I?"

Harry laughed and began to tell him everything about Snape and the manor, Bellatrix, his birthday, his gifts…

"Whoa, cool down. You sure had fun while I was gone."

"Not too much."

"Hey. I brought something for you." He said. Harry squealed in joy. Voldemort shoved his hand into his pocket and took out a necklace. But not any necklace.

The lace was thin and black, and the charm was a small, golden circle with some sort of stone engraved in it. The stone changed colors, to Harry's amusement. When Mr. Riddle had taken it out, it was white, but when Harry had put it on, it had changed to light blue.

"It's a feeling orb." He said. "It changes color according to feelings. I have one just like it. They are twins. This side," he said, passing a thumb across the one Harry was looking at, "is your side. It shows your feelings, and changes according to yours. And this side," he flipped it around "is my side. It changes according to my feelings. Mine is the same. One side for you and one side for me. That way, you'll know what I'm feeling and I'll know what you're feeling when I'm away. We'll be a little more connected."

"Wow." Harry muttered, looking at it. "It's amazing."

"You really like it?"

"I love it. It's the best gift I've received. Well, besides Hedwig."

Voldemort chuckled. "Hey, that's not it. Tomorrow we'll go buy you a wand."

"Yay!"

* * *

><p>"Sir, it is not that simple." Snape said. "If the Lord has the child, he is hidden. Hidden from me, at least."<p>

"You are loyal to him, Severus." Dumbledore said. "Or so he believes. He can't be hiding it from you."

"I have not seen any child near the Dark Lord on the last days."

"What if you use some Veritaserum on him? Make him tell you where he put Harry." Remus said.

"Thoughtful as always, but incorrect, Lupin." Snape said. "When one takes the Veritaserum and is forced to speak, it is noticeable. And I would not like the Dark Lord finding out that I betrayed him, thank you very much."

"Well… What about Wormtail? You could force him to swallow up some of it. He's too dumb to realize what it is."

"You are being reckless as always, Lupin. It surprises me how that part of you can't get hidden behind your wolf side. But no, Wormtail can also sense the effects of Veritaserum and since I am the only one capable of providing it I'm afraid that is not our way out."

"There has to be a way." Lupin said. "Severus, it's Harry. He's Lily's child and…"

"And Potter's child as well, I am aware of that. But that won't make things easier and I'm sure that won't be an argument to change the Dark Lord's mind."

"Remus… when is the next full moon taking place?"

"In fourteen days."

"I think I have a plan."

* * *

><p>Snape arrived right after they cut the cake. His expression was troubled and he was pale. Paler than normal, that is. Voldemort didn't question him about it, although he noticed. Bellarix played with Draco and Harry outside. Hedwig flew around, catching mice and drinking water. Voldemort and Snape stood next to the river, smoking and not speaking, each buried deep in their thoughts. Malfoy sat inside the house, reading his book. It wasn't until it was dark outside that Malfoy decided to leave. Draco and Harry said goodbye and they headed inside.<p>

"So, how was your first birthday party?" Bellatrix asked as she tucked him in. "I know it wasn't much but…"

"Are you kidding? It was amazing."

"Okay." She said softly. "I'm glad you enjoyed it."

"Thank you, Aunt Bella."

"Good night, Harry. Mr. Riddle will take you shopping tomorrow."

"You're not coming?"

"I don't think I can, sweetie." She said. "But we'll see."

Harry nodded, took his glasses of and lay down, falling asleep almost instantly.

* * *

><p>"Severus." Voldemort called. "What did Dumbledore tell you?"<p>

"Nothing of importance."

"Are you trying to fool me? I know you too well. Something is bugging you."

Snape sighed. "You should not concern yourself –"

"Don't test me, Snape. Today I am in a good mood but that can easily change."

"Yes sir." He said. "Dumbledore… formulated some kind of… _plan._"

"Well, then. I'm all ears."

* * *

><p><em>Thank you for your reviews.<em>


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N:**

Hello, guys.

I know I've been a horrible writer, keeping you all at bay with my story and not updating as much as I should, considering I get quite an amount of reviews. I know the story seemed promising at first, but to be honest, I don't see it getting anywhere. I had plans for this, but it turns out they weren't as great as I had pictured them in my mind. I mean, it's not as great as it should be and I lost my way with it. I see the end but don't know how to get there. I just don't feel it in me anymore.

To be honest, I have a horrible disease: Writer's Block. It's eating up all my inspiration and imagination and I don't want to get into my personal life and stuff but it's not helping. I think I'm going to rest for now.

To the anonymous guy who's been bugging me and telling me to get my life together and keep writing: Dude, cool down. It's just a story. Don't get angry all of a sudden because honestly, you don't know anything about me or my life and have no right to force me to write just for you, okay bud? Just relax and try to read other stories because this one, for now, will go on hiatus.

I know, I know. But it's temporary. It'll come back to life soon enough. Really, I'm not killing it. Just giving it a little rest while I get my shit together and get rid of these horrible Writer's Block and give you guys what you deserve. I just thought I'd let you know that I'm not planning on updating it as of now, even though it is a young story; barely 9 chappies.

I will update, I swear. Just not… now.

Thank you all for your reviews and I'm really, really sorry. I just have to think of a better plot for this little baby. I just didn't want to have your hopes up and keep on expecting something that won't come very soon. BUT WON'T DISAPPEAR EITHER.

That being said, I'll see you soon enough.

Love,

WildVegeta.


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